


Forgiveness from a Goddess

by The_Lovely_Senses



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, F/M, Just Having a Go at Writing, Mind Games, Probably Mary Sue, Probably ooc, R&R please, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 42,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14243754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lovely_Senses/pseuds/The_Lovely_Senses
Summary: Kilgrave, a man who can get anything or anyone he wants (except for Jessica), comes across a teen who can also refuse his commands. Of course, he can't leave an immune person alone to one day be his downfall, so he keeps her close, forcing his company on her.Iris, a lonely young woman, meets an infuriating man who has powers. But the more time she spends with him, the more sides of him she can see.After all he has done, can forgiveness be given at the hands of a goddess? Can she change the man who sees no wrong in his actions, or will he drag her down with him?Set midway through season one.Originally posted on Wattpad under same title and username (In case you like that format better. I'm also hoping more people will see this.)





	1. Author's Note

Hello, Lovelies!

This may be a long author's note, but I really do want you to get a better understanding of me and the story you're going to read first.

Because this is Kilgrave I'm writing about, there will obviously be mature themes and possible triggers. I do not condone or tolerate abuse or crime in any way, shape, or form. If anything comes off that way or is offensive, it is not my intention.

Some parts of the story may be inaccurate or contradictory, but I try my best to create a nice little plot full of details.

He may be OOC, and I apologize for that, but my writing depends on how I feel. When my mood changes, I write differently, and I hate that inconsistency. It's part of the reason why updates are going to take long, too. If something doesn't look or feel right, I'll push it off. Then I have school that keeps me busy. It was my original intention to finish before Easter and post the complete story then, but that didn't work out.

What I'm hoping for is that someone will see and read this and write reviews and comments. Be as honest as you like. I don't want to become arrogant and think I write well when I don't. Originally, this story was going to stay hidden (like my other ones) because they mostly serve my own emotional needs, but I truly want to see others' opinions of it. This is my first fan fiction, and I'm eager to know what you Lovelies think! 

If you have any questions, feel free to hit me up.

Thank you and enjoy!


	2. Chapter One: AKA A Meeting is in Order

"Oh why did I ever think of taking all these classes," sighed a frustrated eighteen-year-old, running a hand through her short hair.

Iris had been regretting the amount of work she had basically given herself since the fall semester, but with all dual-enrollment classes for spring, she had also signed up for sleepless nights. The workload was getting to her as the mid-term approached, as she was no longer able to find relief in writing her stories. There was simply no time for that.

After Christmas break, Iris had taken to doing school work in a nice little café near her apartment. Luckily for her, the apartment was cheap enough to get by on a fast-food worker's wage. She didn't have anyone to help her pay for her things — something she had to get used to recently. At least her hours were flexible enough to cram her whole schedule in. Of course, most of her worries were due to her bad habit of procrastination.

Now she was sitting, back aching after who knows how many minutes, in that café she liked, switching between her small laptop, the large textbook next to it, and the mess of papers she had over the table. Her hefty book bag was leaning against one of the legs.

More minutes passed, and with a sigh, this one of relief, Iris sat back before packing up her things. She only left two items out: the laptop and a different book, a fiction novel, nothing her school would let her happily read. Her teachers always assigned books (that were mostly excellent she had to admit) but their strong dialects and non fictitious nature made her refuse to like them.

Iris glanced between the novel and computer, trying to choose between reading and writing. She didn't want to start a new story and be too busy to update it, but even the littlest bit of flexing her creativity made her forget her worries. Just like reading, and maybe even more so, writing gave her freedom to explore worlds she would never experience.

Looking around at the half-full café, she made her decision, moving the book aside and pulling her laptop towards her, close enough that her arms wouldn't hurt but far enough away to not have to take off her glasses. Her extreme nearsightedness prevented her from taking her glasses off in most situations, but she wanted to keep an eye on her surroundings.

After pulling up a Word document, she cracked her fingers in preparation. She had a story ready that had been lingering in her mind: a romantic one. Those she almost always focused on because of her lack of a love life. Halfway through, she would always get stumped, not actually knowing what people do after confessing their love for each other. Everything she typed was pretty cliché, but TV shows didn't show what lovers do day-to-day after that. Iris didn't want to skip over any interesting bits, so she would usually put the story off to the side. The build up towards the climax was good enough for her.

While she was typing, fingers flying across the keyboard, she would glance up, finding inspiration for a character in a café customer and for other influences to her narrative. Once, she had spotted a (in her opinion) handsome man in an unexpectedly purple suit. Finding his attire and features unique and interesting, she made a similar character in her story as she typed away. Trying not to be obvious, she would sweep her eyes across the café, detailing him in the process. She noticed his dark, well-groomed hair; brooding face; and lean body, but there was something off about him. Not wanting to judge someone she had never met, Iris shrugged the uneasy feeling off, continuing on with her story.

Right when her main character would meet the love of her life for the first time, a commanding voice shouted, "Quiet!"

Iris had jumped a little at the suddenly loud and angry tone before turning to whoever yelled, herself angry at someone who thought it was okay to just shout things like that. Brows furrowed, she moved her face above her laptop to see over the screen. Nearly everyone was looking at the man she had found attractive earlier, but with that snarling look on his face, she took back her statement. Although she didn't enjoy being what she thought was rude, she glared at the side of his face since he was sitting at another table at an angle.

Somehow knowing she was doing this — probably because everyone else had returned to what they were doing quietly — he turned his head, catching her eyes dead on. Inside, Iris was alarmed, but she kept an even look on her face before continuing with her story, though less energetic than before. She began to feel uncomfortable at only hearing the click-clacks of her keyboard's keys; everyone else had seemingly followed his order, unnerving her more. Failing to stay focused on her topic, her mind wandered to how and why the man was so powerful. Iris didn't really keep up with celebrities, so he could be one. But paparazzi were usually around, and if the customers knew him, he should be getting greeted by them, if they were fans anyway.

Seeing that she only had a few more precious minutes to type, she forcibly quit her pondering. Again, aside from a few noises here and there, only Iris's click-clacking sounded through the café.

"I told you to be quiet!" the same man yelled.

Iris lifted a brow at his tantrum. That's what she thought it was anyway, since he was acting like a child, demanding things. She stopped typing to peer at who he was screaming at. As soon as her eyes looked away from the screen, she saw his furious gaze directed at her. Frowning, she was about to say something back when he spoke instead. His table was not far from hers, so he didn't shout at the top of his lungs like he did to everyone earlier.

"Smash that laptop on your head," he ordered. Iris let out a sharp laugh in disbelief.

"Now why would I do that?" she asked as if he were stupid. Instead of more fury as she was expecting, she received a masked look of shock.

"Tell me: who are you?" he spoke after getting his thoughts together. A few patrons glanced at him. Catching it, the man shouted, "Everyone, mind your own business!" They all turned away from him, acting like he wasn't even there. Strolling over to Iris, who had begun her story again, he sat in the chair in front of her, sitting as if he were the most important man in the room. He examined her as she continued typing, her pretending he wasn't there for another reason than being ordered. She allowed him to observe her, trying to avoid unnecessary conflicts.

The man narrowed his eyes at being ignored but inspected her appearance anyway. Her short hair was as dark as his and her eyes as brown as his, but they definitely did not look alike. She was shorter than him, but not by much from what he could tell. Her posture seemed to have straightened in a form of defiance; earlier, he had spotted her in a more slouchy one. The clothes she wore were obviously cheap — for a reason, well-worn and all. Given her young appearance, he assumed that she had just left the nest, old and independent enough to make it on her own. For the most part, she seemed like any other teenager.

"Who are you?" he asked evenly, trying to figure out what was so different about this girl. No one but  _her_  was supposed to be able to resist his powers. Finally garnering the girl's attention, she tapped a final key and looked up at him.

"And why should I tell you?" she responded back with false boldness. On the inside, she was scared of what this man was capable of.

"Because I asked," he said snidely, and Iris scoffed at his demeanor.

"No. You're quite rude, ordering people like that in here. Who do you think you are?" she asked, pushing aside her laptop to clasp her hands on the table, finally focusing on him. Unbeknownst to her, she, who was indirectly trying to get him to go away as soon as possible, was actually intriguing him with her attitude. The man cocked his head to the side and thoughtfully ran his tongue along his teeth. Then he closely copied her actions, moving his forearms on the table and leaning forward.

"How about," he offered, "I give you my name if you give me yours." The teenager kept up their stare while she thought.

"I don't see what I'll gain from that," she told him a bit angrily, making him narrow his eyes further.

"I'll find out either way. Save me the trouble, and you can know mine." She curled her lip nastily at his arrogance. Since he was powerful, shown by his demonstration earlier, she knew she had no choice.

"Iris," she admitted shortly.

"Lovely," he commented offhandedly. "Last?"

"... Venia."

"Iris Venia," he repeated a few times to himself while looking off to the side, testing her name out and making Iris uncomfortable. After a moment of silence, she returned the focus to their deal.

"What's yours?" His eyes met hers again.

"What's my what?"

"Your name," she said, irritated that he was playing stupid. "We had a deal."

"Oh, well-" He stood up, scooting the chair back. "-I'll tell you next time-"

"-Next time?! What-" His eyes flared in fury.

"- _Don't_  interrupt me," he warned darkly. Even without his powers working, she went silent, finally submitting in fear. A pleased look grew on his face, coming out as a smirk on his lips. "We'll meet again, Iris Venia. I'm sure of it," he added forebodingly. Iris could only nod before he left the café altogether, smugly walking away with an unseen, sinister grin on his face. In his mind, he was already creating plans for this next possible victim.

When Iris was eventually able to move, she slowly pulled her laptop back in front of her. Her hands were trembling terribly from a mix of shock and fear, making her unable to type anything — not that she could anyway with all of her thoughts zooming around. As if on autopilot, she packed her things and started her trip home, ignoring the still unsettling silence of the café.

While walking on the street, which was now partially lit by street lamps, her triggered paranoia caused her to listen and look out for anything suspicious. Once or twice the color purple flashed in the corner of her eye, but when she turned towards it, nothing was there. Her breathing would calm back down, and she continued on to her apartment.

By the time Iris arrived at her home, it was late, so, tired from the encounter, she quickly checked the few rooms she had for intruders and the lousy excuse of a lock on her door before undressing and slipping into her bed, covering herself up nearly completely with the blanket. Thirty minutes passed, and Iris eventually fell into sleep, fortunately without dreams.

 

* * *

 

Back in the home he had recently bought, the man Iris had met was looking through old, childhood photos, but they weren't his. Most of the ones he were examining included a young, pale, dark-haired teen. He stroked a finger across the picture where she was standing, arm wrapped around a younger brother, smiling. Standing up from a twin-size bed, he laid the photo down and picked up a Nirvana poster, taping it up on the wall. When he was finished, he stepped back with his hands on his hips, proud of the redecorating he had done for this room.

"Hank!" he called out after a minute. A different man, certainly looking like a bodyguard, carefully but quickly stepped across the doorway.

"Yes sir?" he asked evenly. The other man turned around, still with his hands on his hips but this time to look more authoritative.

"I need you to find me anything and everything you can get on an Iris Venia," he told him. The bodyguard, Hank, nodded.

"Any other details, sir?" The man raised a hand to rub his stubble, trying to remember more about the teen he had met.

"She's young and in school. Probably still a high schooler." Then he looked at his bodyguard emotionlessly. "Details are what you should be giving me, so go and find them." Immediately, Hank stiffened before walking away, doing as he was ordered.


	3. Chapter Two: AKA Bloody Buses and Foolish Friends

The next few days were uneventful for Iris. Apart from constantly looking over her shoulder (literally and figuratively) in worry, her days were normal. The difference was where she chose to do homework, no longer being anywhere near that café.

On the fourth day, her luck in never being late ran out. Because of the pile of projects she had been assigned in the same week (which she had cursed the teachers for) her sleep suffered, causing her to wake up thirty minutes late. If she had her own car, she would have been fine, but she didn't, instead taking a bus to Burkley Community College, which was part of her dual-enrollment program.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck!" she screamed, getting louder, and anxiously ruffled her hair.

School was very strict on attendance, and she panicked, beginning to hyperventilate. Despite her circumstances, she took a quick shower before pulling on random clothes and brushing her teeth. Topping herself off with the heavy book bag, she hastily made her way down to the street, desperately looking for any available taxi. The small amount of money she did have would have to be used up for a fare.

Precious minutes were lost as all the taxis she had tried to wave over were filled with New York business people, who worked early as well. Iris's heart began to pound, and her eyes watered. She hated being overdramatic, but she had never missed a day if she could help it. So much could be taught in her classes in a day, and she would fall behind since she didn't get the concepts. Biting her knuckle, making imprints on her skin, she tried to even out her breathing.

 

* * *

 

After two days, Hank held out a folder to his boss, whose feet were propped up on a table so he could comfortably watch soccer (which he still called football). He glanced up at the bodyguard before taking the folder and waving him off. Excited, the man sat up to splay out the folder's contents on the table when Hank left the room.

"Ooh," he said, grinning and holding up an acceptance paper. "So she's smart, eh?" he noted to himself, "Juggling Burkley and Vince at the same time." Clicking his tongue, he added mockingly, "Must be tough." Then he picked up another file. "She lives close... alone, too." His hands shuffled through more papers. "Family, family, family," he muttered. "Aha!" He ran a finger across lines as he read. "Dead father... mother and brother are alive... Oh, no," he said in false pity, frowning before grinning and licking his lips. "Won't have problems with them, then... Unlucky for her. This is just too easy." He placed the paper off to the side to add to the "important" stack he was making. Another file caught his eye. "Schedule... school, bus... Damn, that's early," he said, furrowing his brows. He shrugged. "Oh, well. More likely to miss the bloody thing- Ohh- oh!" he exclaimed, eyes brightening, "That's just perfect!"

 

* * *

 

"Shit!" Iris hissed, ruffling her uncombed hair again. She had roughly thirty-five minutes until class began. The teacher wouldn't let her in if she was even a second late, saying that "that was how college works," so she'd "have to get used to it and face the consequences for lacking responsibility."

"Ooh, language," a voice chided next to her. Iris jumped, not even having noticed that a person was close to her in her panic, and turned to face the owner of the voice.

"Oh God," she gasped when she saw the man she had talked to the other day, still decked out in purple. He tilted his head and pouted fakely.

"Is that any way to greet a friend?" he asked. She huffed and stayed where she was even though she was still afraid of him. A taxi coming along to save her from the man and a tardy was more important. As she kept quiet, he realized she was ignoring him.

Throwing her the tiniest morsel of mercy he had, since he knew from her perfect record she was currently distraught instead of just rude, he didn't yell at or hit her for the silent treatment. Instead, he enacted phase one of his plan.

"What do you need a taxi so bad for?" he wondered aloud, even though he already knew the answer. "School doesn't start until way after seven anywhere." Iris sighed, knowing that she had to say something.

"Not mine," she spoke curtly.

"And why's that?"

"I go to college earlier in the morning so I can arrive at high school on time with their classes," she explained while frantically waving at a taxi, her body sinking when it didn't come.

"Well-" The man pulled out his phone to check the time. "-it's six-twenty now-" Iris let out a shuddering breath. "-I can drive you there," he proposed, placing his phone back into his pocket. She glanced at him warily.

"What would I have to do in return? You still haven't told me-"

"-Kilgrave," he interrupted. He had to admit: like her file suggested, she caught on quick, figuring out he didn't just do favors for free and remembering their deal.

"What?" she asked, looking at him strangely. He tried to cover his smugness, but it bled through in his tone.

"My name. Our deal." He moved on quickly, "Now my car's over-" He pointed a finger at one parked further down to their right. "-there." His eyes returned to hers. "We can go right now." Iris shuffled, considering his offer.

"What's the catch?"

"I drive you everyday unless I'm busy," he stated. She sputtered at his claim.

"B-but- why-" He stepped closer to her, only less than a foot away.

"I have my reasons that  _you_  don't need to worry about, so-" He backed up and pulled his keys out, jingling them as he stepped backwards toward his car. "-ride or cry." Iris glanced at the road that was empty of taxis. Then she made her decision, following the man called Kilgrave after rubbing her face in stress.

She was shocked to realize that he was going to be driving her in the black Bentley he was pointing near. He was already in the driver's seat by the time she reached the passenger's side, so she got in and laid her book bag on the floor in front of the back seats. The car still had that new smell and shiny look, and it was up to date on everything, like the GPS embedded above the radio, a possible fold-down TV in the roof, and slide out racks that came out of the back of the front seats to put a laptop and work, making Iris wonder how rich Kilgrave was.

While she was admiring the interior, he started the ignition, smirking to himself.

"Where to?" he asked, and she faced him instead of the backseat area.

"Burkley Community College," she said stiffly and stared out of the window as Kilgrave began to drive. The silence thereafter reflected the tension.

"Speak," he ordered in frustration. Part of his plan was to get her to trust him, and then she would follow him like a sheep into the wolf's den.

"Why?" she asked, still looking out at buildings. Her mind was elsewhere, though, running a mile a minute. He sighed angrily.

"You will talk, or I will dump you on a random street," he said coldly. "Forget about getting to school on time. You might not make it back home." Iris shivered, chills going through her at the images in her head.

"What should I talk about? If I ask you anything, it's not like you'll answer."

"That's not true," he denied, making her scoff.

"Is Kilgrave your last or first name?" she asked as an example. He took his eyes off the road to glance and point at her.

"That's different."

"Yet I have to answer all of your questions. That's hardly fair."

"I never said I had to be fair."

"Neither did I." He chuckled at her quickness before noticing her leg had stopped bouncing in nervousness. Light bantering calmed her down.

"Ask me something else- Actually, we should take turns asking questions. How about that?"

"Like our last deal went fantastically," she said sarcastically, arms crossed.

"Do you agree or not?" he asked, losing patience.

"I don't have much of a choice-"

"-I'm glad you're getting the idea-"

"-so I'll go ahead. British, huh?" Kilgrave looked at her in angry confusion.

"Why do you start?" She smirked at him.

"I believe I asked you a question. British, huh?" He gritted his teeth.

"Yes, obviously. Now why did you start?"

"Because you already asked a question." He ran their conversation again in his head, finding his mistake. He bit his lip at her cleverness.

"Technically, the game didn't start yet," he defended.

"Why me?" she asked, unaffected, turning her body to face him completely. She liked having an upper hand.

"No, it's my turn."

"Actually, I've already answered two of your questions. It's mine again." He glared at her.

"Bloody hell, you're ruthless."

"Among other things. Why me?" she repeated.

"You're different." Iris bristled.

"Apparently! I know that already!" Kilgrave tsked.

"Should have been more specific."

"Fuck you," she commented before covering her mouth. She could guess how rule-bendy Kilgrave was, ignoring manners and most likely laws. He chuckled darkly.

"Is that what you want? I'll even take you to dinner first."

"No!" she exclaimed. Then something clicked in her head, making her grin and him confused. "How am I different?" He frowned.

"I'm rubbish at this game, aren't I?" She didn't answer. "You don't do what I command." Iris raised a curious brow, and he spotted the college down the street. "Will you have dinner with me?" he asked nonchalantly.

"We're not going to have sex," she stated, narrowing her eyes.

"Of course not." She couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Either way, her answer was the same.

"No."

"You'll change your mind." He pulled in near the entrance of one of the college's buildings and parked.

"You sound so sure." His arrogance still disgusted her.

"It's six forty-seven," he told her simply, and her eyes widened.

"Shit!" She fumbled out of the front seat and got her bag in the back. Closing the doors, she ran towards her class. Surprising him, she turned around before she disappeared at the entrance and looked at him. "Thanks!" she called out, her manners forcing her to. Before he could reply, she was gone.

"Interesting," he murmured to himself. Then he drove off.

 

* * *

 

Iris had managed to step across the classroom doorway right at six forty-nine, so she ended up being on time. Preparing herself for the lesson, she shoved thoughts of Kilgrave away and took out the necessary supplies.

At nine fifty-five, her first two blocks were over, and she headed toward the bus stop to go to Vince High. While her and a few classmates waited at the drop off/pick up area, a car honked its horn. They glanced toward the direction the noise came from, and Iris's stomach dropped at seeing the familiar black Bentley. An arm clothed in purple stuck out the window and waved her over, and she complied, standing at the driver's side.

"What are you doing?" she asked Kilgrave, who had shades on in the glaring sun. He smiled smugly at her.

"Did you forget already?" he asked, falsely disappointed. "We agreed that I drive you everyday."

"Yeah.  _To_  school." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Not my fault you have two schools to go  _to_." Iris let out a throaty growl and walked around the car.

"Iris!" one of her classmates called. "Where are you going?" Iris tossed her book bag in the backseat.

"This is my new ride!" she said, rubbing the top of the car. "No more bus-worrying!"

"Oh, alright!" Her "friends" at the college didn't really look out for her, but they did enjoy her helping them out on homework during the bus ride. 

Iris got in next to Kilgrave, shutting the door.

"Did you make it to class on time?" he asked while she strapped in.

"Yeah... Thanks for that," she mumbled.

"Oh, I heard you the first time," he gloated. "Where to now?"

"Vince High School." Kilgrave drove, pulling onto a main street.

"So how did you manage to be in high school  _and_ college?"

"Are we still playing that game from earlier?" He shook his head.

"Only if you won't talk."

"I will. I'm in a program, just trying to get my Associate's faster. I'm not a fan of wasting time on things I'll end up having to do later."

"What do you plan on doing?" Iris looked away from him.

"... I don't know."

"Oh, Iris... We were doing so well."

"I really don't know," she defended. "What do you do? You seem rich. Maybe I want a similar career."

"I just... dabble," he deflected.

"If you won't answer me properly then-"

"-I get what I want because I want it."

"Does that have anything to do with your 'commands'?" she asked with air quotes.

"Yes... So you can't have a similar career. It's not possible." She shifted her body, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Are you one of those special people?" He stiffened.

"Is there a problem with gifted people?"

"Depends," she shrugged. "So you are, and your powers don't work on me," she pieced together.

"You're quite clever," he praised. "Most people don't even notice."

"Maybe you don't let them," she shot back, and he huffed. 

"I don't like publicity. If people knew about me, the attention they bring cause issues."

"What are your plans for me then?" she asked, covering her nervousness. He thought for a moment.

"Keeping my enemies close."

"So I'm your enemy."

"You can quickly become a problem," he explained. "I didn't want to get my own hands dirty. That's not what I do." Iris shivered.

"You would have killed me?" she whispered, frightened. He brushed her worry off.

"No." She breathed out a sigh of relief. "Someone else would have." Her eyes widened.

"What the hell!?" she exclaimed, beginning to panic. Her hand moved towards the door handle. He noticed that and frowned.

"What are you going to do? Jump out of a moving car? Listen. If I wanted you dead, you would already be." He reached over and placed a hand on her thigh. "Calm down." Iris eyed the hand in her lap as if it were a snake ready to strike. Kilgrave, on the other hand, was glad she didn't slap his hand off right away. He knew she wasn't stupid, but most people would have.

"... Okay," she said quietly after a moment, and he took his hand away. Her leg still had the burning feeling that it was there.

"You need to learn to trust me," he told her. "I thought you'd like having your own chauffeur. Not that I am one," he added pointedly.

"I suppose..." she mumbled, but he didn't know if she was agreeing to his first or second statement. He let it go as they approached her high school.

"Are we here too early?" he asked, seeing no buses.

"No..." But he knew.

"Iris... Are you lying to me?" She turned pale.

"My next block starts at ten forty-five."

"Well, it's only ten-fifteen right now. You should stay here for a bit." He parked the car at the side of the building and turned it off, facing his body towards her. She sat stiffly, trying not to look at him. "Iris..." he drug her name out creepily.

"I- uh-" she stammered until her roughly grabbed her chin, his large hand wrapping around her jaw as well. He leaned forward while she watched him, wide-eyed in fear.

"I usually don't take no for an answer," he warned coldly. "I know you could have figured that out yourself, but I wanted to make sure." Despite her fear, she narrowed her eyes, hating intimidation and dominating strangers.

"Trust is a two-way street, Kilgrave," she said, managing an even tone. "You're not making yes easy to say." He hummed thoughtfully while eyeing parts of her face. His name in her voice did strange things to him, and he licked his lips.

"I see..." Brown eyes clashed, and he released her face, leaving an imprint where his hand was. He raised his hand again, and Iris flinched before he began to gently massage the color back into an even beige. "Maybe next time you can stay longer. I need to go to Central Park anyway." In shock from the whiplash of his mood changes, she automatically got her things and left to wait for the bell. This time, she didn't look back.

Inside his car, Kilgrave licked his lips again. At the sound of a text, he pulled out his phone.

_Can't find you_

_\- MD_

He typed back a response.

_Schedule change:_

_Eleven_

_Stay there_

Not even rushing, Kilgrave made his way to Central Park to pick up his package.

 

* * *

 

"Issy!" a high-pitched shriek called to Iris when she entered the school. The other students in the hall glanced at them.

"Hey, Faith," she greeted, hiding her disgruntlement, and walked over to her. Faith was flying her fingers across her cracked phone screen and chewing gum loudly, smacking her lips.

"So... guess what Tykee did?" she asked, glancing up from her phone from time to time. Iris shrugged.

"The same thing he always does?"

"You damn right about that. We spent the whole weekend together." Iris thought she was done talking.

"Faith-"

"-Now he won't even text me! What's wrong with him?!"

"Maybe he's busy with work," Iris suggested. "That's why I wish you'd find someone closer to your age." Faith stuck her phone in between her large, barely covered breasts to place hands on her hips.

"Excuse me! He should be paying attention to me! Not work."

"How else is he going to get paid?" Faith shrugged.

"Too bad. I'm his priority."

"That's not how it sounded last time."

"Don't start that again. He already apologized." Iris's frown deepened.

"That doesn't make it okay. He didn't even care about the baby-"

"-Well, there's no baby now, so he doesn't have to."

Although Faith had probably lied to her, since she "got pregnant" every year, Iris couldn't help but be hurt at the thought of a miscarriage at the hands of abuse. Faith and her family situation didn't matter to Iris, having separated herself from her own, but she cared about snuffing out the life of someone who never got to live. Having next to no friends, she stayed with Faith to keep her social life going, not because Faith was an "amazing" person to be around. Iris used to try to change her, but she gave up reluctantly, realizing she was too far gone into her own head and ego.

Faith had a devious grin on her face.

"I think I saw who was driving you. He's a hottie." Faith smacked Iris hard. "Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone!?"

"Because I'm not!" Iris hissed, rubbing her arm.

"So he's up for grabs then?"

"No. He's not."

"Is he married or something? You know I don't care about that. How can anyone resist-" Faith ran her hands up her body, making Iris scrunch up her nose. "-this?"

"Faithful people," Iris answered involuntarily. Luckily, Faith didn't care about her tone.

"Well, he can be full of Faith when I'm done with him-"

"-Please stop."

"What?" Faith asked innocently, twirling a finger in her hair. The bell rang, and Iris was only too glad to stop their conversation.

"Let's go," she told Faith, making her way down the hall.

"Wait up!" Faith squealed, bending over obscenely to pick up and sling a stained hoodie over her shoulder.


	4. Chapter Three: AKA Spring-Sprouted Flower

The rest of the week went similarly: Kilgrave would pick Iris up and drop her off at college and school, though his treatment of her never got as harsh as it did that first day; Faith would annoy her with questions and try to get her to set them up; and Iris took the bus home, to her job, or to a nearby café.

The next Wednesday came around too slowly, and Iris was happy to be closing in on spring break.

"What's the cheerful look for?" Kilgrave asked that afternoon. Iris couldn't wipe the smile off her face, and it was infectious, making him smile as well.

"I just realized: spring break is coming up!" she yelled, throwing her hands up as far as they could go in the car. Then she quietened. "Sorry."

"No, no. You're allowed to be happy, Iris. Just don't be annoying."

"Oh, alright."

"Any plans for then?" She shook her head.

"Not really. I might write, but it makes time pass too quickly."

"You never told me you write," he complained.

"I don't do it often, and it's not like it's great."

"Well, I'd like to read some of what you have." Her face brightened.

"Really?" she asked in disbelief.

"Why not?"

"No one ever wants to read my stuff," she explained. "You'd be the first." Kilgrave furrowed his brows.

"What about your friends? You seem a bit too passionate about writing for them to ignore it."

"They do," Iris replied curtly, hiding her sadness. He snorted, and she frowned at him, thinking he was making fun of her.

"You have shitty friends then." She smiled despite the harsh truth.

"Yeah."

 

* * *

 

"Issy! I need to use the bathroom," Faith whined, rubbing her legs together.

"Then go.  _I'm_  hungry," Iris told her, trying not be stuck at the end of the lunch line again.

"But Issy... I won't be long..." Iris sighed, rubbing her head in response to her hunger and frustration headache.

"Ugh, fine-"

"-Yay!" Faith went to stand in the completely full bathroom, waiting for an open stall. Iris stood next to her, glancing at the phone Faith always had in her hand. She patted her pocket.

"Fuck!" Iris hissed quietly at the empty feeling. There was nothing in any of her pockets when she frantically patted around.

"Huh?"

"Faith, have you seen my phone anywhere?" Iris asked desperately.

"How should I know?" Faith said snidely without even looking up, barely answering her question.

"I know I had it with me at Burkley..." Iris murmured to herself, backtracking.

"Wait. What? I was busy talking with Tykee."

"My phone."

"What about it?"

"I lost it." Faith shook her head.

"Tough luck," Faith sang. "I'm sure you can get another." Iris's heart dropped. She definitely did not have enough spare money. Nearly everything she had was what her mother had bought for her a year or two ago. Iris just changed accounts so that she would be paying instead of her.

Disheartened, Iris forgot about her hunger and waited gloomily for Faith. Five minutes had passed before they were finally able to head to the cafeteria.

"They better have some good food today," Faith remarked. "Hey." She poked Iris none too gently in between the ribs.

"Jesus!-"

"-You're gonna give me your pizza right? You can have my carrots." Iris nodded, always having eaten the fruits and vegetables instead of the constant greasiness of the main course.

"Yeah," Iris mumbled, closing her eyes. The line wouldn't be moving any time soon anyway.

"Oh. My. God," Faith said after a minute or two. She started to repeatedly smack Iris to get her attention. Iris opened her eyes and moved her arms to protect herself.

"What, what!" Faith licked her lips and checked herself out in her phone camera, flipping her hair when she was done.

"How do I look?" she asked Iris.

"Same as always. Why?" Faith pointed behind her.

"Mr. Hottie's here," she whispered mischievously. Iris furrowed her brows and turned around, eyes searching.

"Who the hell is- Oh, fuck me," Iris interrupted herself when she spotted Kilgrave near the entrance of the cafeteria. She quickly turned back around in hopes that he wouldn't see her. Faith, however, kept staring.

"Is that how he really looks?" she asked, twirling her hair and biting her lip. Iris could tell Faith was mentally undressing the man from the way her eyes trailed up and down.

"I thought you knew." Faith shook her head.

"I've only seen him in that Bentley... He can be  _my_ sugar daddy," Faith mumbled to herself, but Iris heard.

"Faith! Get ahold of yourself!"

"No can do. Issy, I think he's looking for you. Don't know why he would, though."

"Maybe he has my phone."

"What's wrong with your phone?" Iris rubbed her face. She was used to her "friends" forgetting about her.

"Nothing. Just... don't call him over here."

"Too late. He's  _coming_ this way. Get it?  _Coming_ -"

"-Faith. Stop it." A second later, a hand placed itself on Iris's shoulder, making her tense up before facing who she knew was Kilgrave. He seemed to be acting like nothing was unusual, face unstressed with a sly smirk on it. Before she could ask anything, he spoke.

"You left this-" He held out her phone. "-in the cupholder." Iris grabbed it gently.

"Oh." She put it deep in her pocket. "Thank you," she said gratefully. "You didn't have to deliver it, though."

"Well-" He cocked his head. "-I wanted to see you in your natural environment," he teased before grimacing. "It's quite disgusting."

"Yeah!" Faith spoke up, hating that she wasn't the center of his attention. "The teachers are bitches, and-"

"-Hush," Kilgrave ordered, shutting up the annoying voice. Faith's shock showed on her face. "Look away." She turned around.

"Kilgrave-"

"-I hope that's not one of your friends."

"She... is, and you can't just command people in here. There're cops." He scoffed.

"How do you think I got in? They wouldn't even allow me past the lobby."

"Just... be careful is what I'm saying. We're phone-happy here, and you told me you didn't like attention."

"Alright. I meant what I said, though."

"What's that?"

"This school is disgusting. And not just the food- Please tell me you're not eating any of that." Iris chuckled at his scrunched up face.

"I usually just eat the fresh or sealed stuff, like the carrots and apples." He looked at her strangely, and she thought she saw concern in his eyes.

"That's not a meal. You'll starve." Iris shook her head.

"It's free. I can't afford packed lunches." He frowned.

"Then it's a good thing I brought this-" He held up the white styrofoam box he had been holding behind his back. "-with me today," he said smiling.

"What is it?" Iris asked curiously.

"Find us a seat, and we'll find out." Iris grinned before tugging on his hand to the place where she usually sat: the cleanest table in the cafeteria. As she passed her friend, Faith touched her arm to get her attention. "Hands off," Kilgrave told her possessively, and she dropped her hand.

"Kilgrave..." Iris chided. She shook her head and continued on.

"I don't like her," he stated, "and I've just met her. How do you put up with such a... a  _thing_?" They sat down in the corner of the room and were right next to each other with their legs touching. Iris sighed.

"I don't have many friends-"

"-I don't think you have any," he corrected bluntly.

"That's not true," Iris defended herself. "Yoli's just not in my third block or this lunch. She takes fourth. The others have their own friends they like to be with."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"You have me," Kilgrave said nonchalantly, and Iris sputtered.

"W-well, yeah, but..." she trailed off, coming up with nothing. Despite their rough and involuntary start, he was closer to her than anyone else she knew. He tsked.

"That's what I thought. Now dig into an  _actual_ lunch," he said, scooting the box over to her. She carefully untabbed the lid and lifted it.

"Oh, that is delicious," she gasped when she saw and smelled what was inside. He laughed.

"You haven't even tried it yet!"

"I don't have to." Iris took the included fork and put some of the food in her mouth. "Mmm," she moaned appreciatively.

"It's Pasta Amatriciana: my favorite." She quickly swallowed and looked at him apologetically.

"Oh! I didn't want to eat-"

"-No worries," he brushed her off, "Those were my leftovers from a lovely restaurant I was just at. You don't mind right?" She shook her head.

"No." Iris smiled and squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

She continued eating while he watched her, conversing in between mouthfuls. When there were ten minutes left of lunch, Faith sat in front of her with her greasy tray. Iris nudged Kilgrave and looked at him pointedly. He shook his head, mouthing no, and she did the opposite. When he huffed, she knew he had given in.

"Forget about my earlier orders," he told Faith. She finally looked up towards them.

"Issy! Aren't you gonna introduce us?" Faith asked, and Kilgrave groaned quietly.

"This is my therapist, Doctor John Campbell," Iris lied.

"I thought you stopped seeing your therapist." Of course, Faith would remember details Iris would rather she forget.

"Yeah, but he's been checking up on me for free... as a friend."

"Well-" Faith turned to Kilgrave, ignoring his grimace. "-I wouldn't mind you checking up on me."

"Miss Venia is a special case," he argued.

"She  _would_ be," Faith commented rudely.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Iris asked.

"My life is a lot worse than yours, but you don't see me with a doctor," Faith replied. Iris's brow twitched, but she didn't take the bait. Kilgrave would cause a scene as a result.

"Well, I don't have a boyfriend to help me out, so I think I'm allowed this," Iris said.

"Maybe you should loosen up a little. Lose your virginity and all that," Faith suggested. Kilgrave leaned towards Iris.

"You're a virgin?" he whispered in her ear, making her blush. She pushed him back gently with a hand on his chest.

"Faith, how is my wing-girl's progress going?"

"Oh, Tykee doesn't know anyone, and Hailey's not gay," Faith said. Kilgrave glanced between them, confused.

"What?" he asked either. Faith took the chance to speak to him.

"Iris is looking for a date, but almost everyone she's interested in is taken, so she asked me to set her up."

"Oh... Well, who's Hailey?" Faith pointed at a girl sitting two tables behind him. Both Kilgrave and Iris turned around, and he saw a teen that looked strikingly familiar to his own love of his life.

She was pale with long, straight, dark hair. Unlike most of the high schoolers he had seen, she wore minimal makeup. Her fashion sense was contrasting, though. When the woman he loved was a teen, she definitely didn't wear a preppy dress or carry a tiny handbag around. Her nails weren't long and fake either.

Turning back around, he saw a sad look on Iris's face as she observed Hailey as well. He pieced together what he was told.

"You're a lesbian?" he asked Iris, who had already went back to finishing her pasta.

"No. She's uh- um-" Faith snapped her fingers. "-that pan thing. I think."

"I just love who I feel like loving alright?" Iris spoke up after swallowing her mouthful. Faith leaned heavily on the table, trying to show Kilgrave the cleavage that was spilling out on it.

"You wanna know what I think?" she whispered, even though Iris could still hear her. He glanced at the teen sitting next to him.

"I don't think I do."

"Well, I think she's just desperate-"

"-Silence," he hissed, making her quit talking. "Move back, and fix yourself. You disgust the both of us." Faith leaned back and arranged her shirt so that it properly covered her. "Leave Iris alone for the rest of the day." She got up and left. Iris turned towards him. "I'm not going to apologize," he told her with finality.

"Did you just defend me?" she instead asked in disbelief. Kilgrave eyed her strangely.

"Is that unusual to you?" Before she could answer, the bell rang, signaling that she should start heading back to class. Since her classroom was at the back of the school, she had to rush.

"Oh, I've got to go, Kilgrave." They both stood, and she surprised him with a hug before taking off. At the cafeteria door, she waved the white box at him. "I'll finish this for supper!" He chuckled.

"See you tomorrow... " he murmured as she disappeared around the doorway. Then he smirked. "Flower."

 

* * *

 

In the middle of fourth block, which Iris didn't do much in, she felt her phone vibrate. She usually left it on silent since she didn't text anyone, so she stealthily took it out to see the notification. Surprisingly, she did receive a text.

 _I think you_   _should_

_spend time with me_

_during your break._

When Iris tapped on the textbox, her messaging app pulled up along with the contact name. It was the purple devil emoji, and she snorted out loud, making her deskmates glance at her. She coughed as a poor attempt to cover it up.

Iris slid her phone underneath her papers for ease of access and pulled it out whenever the teacher wasn't paying attention.

Iris:   _What will we be doing?_

Kilgrave:   _Whatever we want._

Iris:   _Like?_

Kilgrave:   _Tea. TV. You can stay at my place. I'm sure you'll like it._

Iris:  _Is it a mansion?_

Kilgrave:   _It's more homey than that. Problem?_

Iris:   _No. I like homey._

Kilgrave:   _So...?_

Iris:   _Is there a catch?_

Kilgrave:   _Don't invite your "friends." It'll be just us and my staff._

Iris:   _Staff?_

Kilgrave:   _Cook, cleaner, bodyguards. They won't bother us, but I need protection._

Iris:   _I didn't take you for a mobster, but that explains the wealth._

Kilgrave:   _I'm not, but everyone has enemies, especially me._

Iris:   _Do I have a choice?_

Kilgrave:   _Of course. I was just offering._

The teacher then passed out more worksheets, giving Iris time to think.

Iris:   _When does the sleepover start?_

Kilgrave:   _Whenever school lets out. I'll pick you up and take you to mine._

Iris:   _And my apartment and job?_

Kilgrave:   _I'll take care of it. The landlord and boss won't mind that you're gone._

Iris:   _Can I leave at any time?_

Kilgrave:  _You're not my prisoner._

Iris:   _Alright._

Kilgrave:   _Is that a yes to the whole thing?_

Iris:  _It is, but tell me more about it tomorrow. I have work to do._

Kilgrave:   _Alright. Tomorrow, Flower._

Furrowing her eyebrows, Iris read the last line a few times.

Iris:   _Flower?_

He didn't respond.

 

* * *

 

Laying across the couch, Kilgrave was holding up his phone, smirking.

"Laurent!" he called. A man in a chef uniform stepped in. "Be prepared to make the best dishes you've ever made." Laurent nodded stiffly and moved to walk away. "I mean in a few days, not now!"


	5. Chapter Four: AKA The Wolf's Den

Friday, the last day of school before spring break, came around, and Kilgrave was waiting outside of Vince High to take Iris to his home. When she skipped over, happy that she could rest, he took her hand, leading her to his car.

"I never asked: how far away is your house?" Iris asked him.

"I have two. The one we're going to is in New Jersey but only by thirty minutes." She stopped walking, making him stop as well.

"How much have you been driving?"

"I haven't been going out of my way to get you to school if that's what you mean."

"Thirty minutes," she said pointedly as they started to walk again. "You must wake up early as hell."

"I sleep earlier," he reasoned. "I'm not going to stop." He let go of her hand when they reached his car. Getting in, she prepared herself for the drive.

On the road, they talked as usual.

"So what's first on the to-do list?" Iris asked him.

"Reading," he answered, and she snorted.

"That's boring."

"No. I mean reading your stuff. You haven't shown me any yet."

"I didn't think you were serious."

"I'm not one of your parasitic friends. If it means something to you, it probably means something to me." She hummed happily at his words.

"That's new. What about you? What are your hobbies?" He shrugged. Most of things he did wouldn't be considered appropriate hobbies. "Come on," Iris whined. She boldly put a hand on his shoulder, making him glance at her in surprise. "We're friends. At least tell me something about yourself." He groaned and said the first thing that came to mind.

"There's this woman..."

"And...?"

"I've been trying to make her see... that I love her, but she denies any sort of feelings between us." Strangely, Iris felt her heart clench and removed her hand.

"Oh... Have you tried being all romantic? Flowers and such?" He shook his head.

"She hates that sort of stuff. Knowing it was from me would just make her toss it in the trash."

"Maybe she doesn't deserve you."

"I can't get over her. We were made for each other, Iris. I can't love anyone else when I know that she's my other half." Iris rubbed her chest at the sudden, unknown pain.

"Well, I hope she realizes how much she means to you."

"Yeah... Let's talk about something else."

 

* * *

 

"So, Iris! What do you think?" Kilgrave asked when they arrived. Iris carried her book bag out of the car.

"It  _is_ homey..." she murmured. "I was still expecting a mansion."

"Well-" He began to walk to the front door. "-come on!" Using his ring of keys, he unlocked the door and held it open for her. Stepping in, she noticed the staircase directly in front of her, the dining room to her left, and the sitting room to her right.

"Where can I put this?" she asked, gesturing to her bag.

"Your bedroom's upstairs-" He began walking up the steps, and she followed. "-and to the right. The left ones are off limits." Iris saw a Do Not Enter sign on one to her left before looking to her right. Kilgrave moved over to a closed door and opened it. "Here." She entered the room, a little disappointed at its plainness, but it wasn't exactly bad.

After placing her bag next to the medium-sized bed, she followed Kilgrave back downstairs. He clapped his hands loudly, and three people appeared at the bottom of the steps, where they were. Sensing her apprehension, he slung an arm around Iris's shoulders.

"Iris, this is the staff. Everyone introduce yourself."

"Hank, ma'am. Bodyguard."

"Laurent Bouchard. Chef."

"Alva Ramirez. Cleaner."

"You're all dismissed except for you, Hank." The cook and cleaner left quietly while the bodyguard stood in place. Kilgrave moved closer to him. "Now I want you and your men to look after Iris's wellbeing as much as mine," he said lowly. "Do you understand? I won't stand for mistakes." Hank nodded.

"Yes, sir," he responded professionally.

"You better," Kilgrave warned. "You may leave." Hank strolled away to another part of the house.

"Will I be in danger?" Iris asked cautiously.

"No, but I won't always be home. I want to make sure you're safe."

"Oh," she said shakily, his words doing something odd to her. "What now?" He smirked at her.

"Reading."

 

* * *

 

Kilgrave had Iris's laptop in his lap as he scrolled down the pages. He had been reading one story for over an hour with a fist supporting his chin, making her nervous. After another ten minutes, he groaned.

"What?" Iris asked, watching his reaction. He waved a hand at the screen.

"You haven't finished it!" he exclaimed, irritated.

"Well, I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know what to write afterwards," she explained. Not thinking much of it, he pulled her closer to him so they could both see the screen clearly. She was blushing since he had an arm around her waist and their sides were touching. He pointed at the last couple of lines.

"You stopped right at the climax! That's evil! All you have to do is write what happens after they confess their love, and you're done."

"How?" He looked at her strangely.

"What do you mean, 'How'?" She shrugged.

"What  _do_ couples do afterwards? I wouldn't know."

"You've watched films." She arched a brow.

"Do they ever show the inner workings of a relationship?" He rubbed his face in thought.

"Not really. But can't you write from experience?" She scoffed.

"What experience?" He looked up from the screen in confusion.

"You've dated. Just put it on paper." She blushed.

"I've... never dated anyone," she admitted, embarrassed. Kilgrave laughed.

"Iris! Don't kid like that!" Then he noticed her cheeks getting redder. "Oh... You're not..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "You've never had sex either, but you can write the scenes just fine. Although, you've romanticized it quite a bit."

"Speaking from experience?" Iris asked jokingly after pulling herself together.

"Oh, definitely," he said smugly.

"Any tips?" He coughed at her boldness, making her laugh. "That time I  _was_ kidding!" He growled playfully and did something he weirdly felt like doing, tickling her. Her laughs became uncontrollable, and she wheezed. "St-stop!" she screamed between laughs. He didn't stop and instead pinned her down on the sofa they were on. She was pushing at his chest weakly. "K-Kilg-grave!"

"I won't stop until you surrender!" he sang.

"F-fine!" He removed his hands while she took deep breaths. "I swear to God if  _you're_ ticklish..." she trailed off. 

Her eyes were closed, so she didn't see his eyes flicker down to her lips and across her flushed body, t-shirt ridden up to expose part of her stomach. His urges were strong until he remembered just who was under him.

 _It wasn't **her**_.  _It was supposed to be_   ** _her_**.

He sat back while she recovered.

"Jesus, Kilgrave!" Iris said, sitting up. He watched her with a smirk. "What was that for?" He shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. But you do owe me since you surrendered." She groaned.

"I didn't even know that's how it works."

"Too bad."

"What do I owe?"

"Dinner." Iris sighed.

"Kilgrave, you know I can't afford-"

"-I'll pay. Just eat dinner out with me one night, like a date... Bam!" he exclaimed, jolting her. "You can write another story after gaining some 'experience.' It's a win-win."

"What do you get out of that?" He thoughtfully bit his lip.

"... We'll see..."


	6. Chapter Five - Part One: AKA Shots to their Hearts

Their "date" was set up for some other night before they agreed to go to Central Park the next day. Kilgrave wanted Iris to accompany him on some errand.

"What are we waiting for again?" Iris asked, sipping tea outside of a café. Kilgrave was seated to her right with the café wall behind him.

"Someone should be delivering me something any second now." He straightened his coat and pointed subtly. "See that man right there?" She turned and spotted a man who looked like a junkie (but she didn't want to judge) heading towards them with a manila envelope.

"Yeah..." she answered, slightly curious.

"That's my delivery boy." His "delivery boy" sat down on his right, glancing at Iris before handing Kilgrave the envelope. He opened it up and took out some photos. Iris furrowed her eyebrows when she saw them.

"Kilgrave..." she said carefully. He looked at her before scooting right next to her chair, placing some of the photos in her lap gently. For some reason, he felt compelled to show them to her and get her opinion.

"That's-" He tapped the woman in the picture. "-the love of my life: Jessica Jones. Beautiful isn't she?" Iris held mixed emotions. She was a little angry with a woman she had never met, something unlike her to be, but she had to agree on the beauty.

"Yes. She is."

"Quite like your Hailey. Am I right?"

"Yes..." He patted her hand that held the photo.

"Don't worry. I'll find you someone who can be your Jessie. Right now, I need to settle things with mine." Kilgrave raised a hand and thoughtfully stroked Iris's cheek. She held her breath as she stared at him. "Worst comes to worst, I can learn to share. I don't think Jessie discriminates." To him, it was the biggest gesture of love he could give a friend. Iris could tell, even though it was in his own, twisted way. She smiled through her sinking heart.

"Thank you," she said softly. He smiled back before pulling out his own package to hand to his "delivery boy."

"Excellent job," Kilgrave told him. "You can stay here if you like. I'll buy whatever snacks you want." At Iris's replies, he was feeling his own high, becoming generous.

"Hey, I'll just take whatever you'll give me, man," he responded. Before Kilgrave could wave over a waiter, a balloon popped, causing the three of them to glance over in the noise's direction.

Kilgrave was craning his neck to peer over Iris's shoulder, and Iris was staring hard to her left. She was the one who spotted the shady-looking man in sunglasses and a baseball cap. Frowning, she was about to tell Kilgrave, but something, or rather some _one_ , caught his attention.

"Hey!" Iris turned to see the woman in the photos, who had entranced Kilgrave. While he was watching her, Iris looked back at the other man. "Hey, shithead! Over here!" She ignored the rest of the shouts as she realized the man was holding something covered by a brown paper bag.

The shady man didn't notice her look of alarm and raised his arm up towards Kilgrave, aiming a hidden weapon. As quick as she could, Iris shot up out of her chair and blocked Kilgrave, taking a dart to the chest.

"Iris?" Kilgrave called worryingly, staring at her stiff back. She tried to place a hand on the table but nearly tipped it over if he had not stood up to catch her. "Iris!?" He looked over her head to see the panicked look of Jessica and the other man. "What have you done to her?!" he asked, snarling. Without even hearing their response, Kilgrave returned his focus to the limp teen in his arms, plucking the dart that had landed right above her heart and sticking it in his pocket. He patted her face in an attempt to wake her. His heart was racing as he called his guards inside the café over, running Jessica and her friend off.

"You! Come here!" he shouted at a guard nearby. "Drive us back home as fast as safely possible, and get a doctor over there!"

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Iris was wrapped up in the bedroom he gave her, still unconscious. Kilgrave was pacing with crazed thoughts at the doctor's words.

_"She was shot with a large quantity of Sufentanil."_

_"Yes. And?"_

_"It was injected close to her heart. The chances of her not dying were low. She was ready to go into respiratory arrest when I arrived."_

_"Now?"_

_"She will have to be monitored closely. Any changes in heart or breathing rate should be notified to me immediately."_

_"Is that all you can do?"_

_"I'm sorry. It's a waiting game until she wakes up. If she does, that is."_

Sitting down next to her pale figure that was hooked up to a monitoring system, Kilgrave took out his phone. It rang a few times before someone answered, choosing to stay quiet.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I think today has gone to shit," he hissed.

"... It wasn't part of the-"

"-I don't care what it was a part of. Your friend shot mine, and now she won't wake up! She would have died if I didn't get her a doctor in time!"

"She wouldn't have been in danger at all if you hadn't have kidnapped-"

"-I didn't kidnap her! Unlike you, she has learned to trust me!"

"And where did that get her?"

"Don't pin this on me. Your plan was shit, and it failed horribly. I hope you didn't come up with it because I might have to rethink how smart you really are."

"Is she another Hope?"

"Hope was pathetic. My flower isn't. She'll be fine," he tried to reassure himself.

"'Your flower'?"

"I can't say her name without you P.I.-ing it up. I might as well leave bread crumbs."

"I'll figure it out anyway."

"Just like you figured out the junkie after a whole month?"

"Why don't you let her go? From what I've seen, she's young enough to be your daughter."

"She's my  _friend_. Nothing more, nothing less... Why? Jealous?"

"Of course not. Just more repulsed by you."

"Repulsed, eh? I tell you what: that junkie, I will let him go down his own self-destructive path. I won't make him kill himself right now in response to what occurred today if... you do his job for him. Keep the pictures coming. Say, one a day, at eleven a.m.? Don't forget to smile. Hmm? Send the picture, save the junkie. Sounds like an ad campaign. Let's start, um, tomorrow. I'm still peeved off at your actions... Come on, Jessica. Tell me we have a deal... Although, the deal's off if my flower doesn't wake up."

Instead of an answer, the line clicked off, and Kilgrave texted Jessica a message.

_I'll be waiting._

_For you and for her._

Sighing, he tucked his phone back into his pocket before returning his attention to his fragile flower lying still. Despite her sickly look, something about her pulled him in, causing him to involuntarily trail a hand along the top of her blanket where her limbs raised them. He started at her ankle and headed up, sometimes squeezing at her flesh through the cloth. When he reached her hip, he centered his hand, continuing the path up the middle of her stomach and the unnoticeable valley between her breasts. He stopped there, lightly splaying his hand to feel her chest rise and fall, his own breathing beginning to do the same in sync with hers. His face scrunched up in anger when he felt her weak, slow heartbeat.

Moving away from the area caused his fury to lessen, his face going back to its solemn look. His fingers had gone to trace her bare collarbones, finding them pleasantly different to the softness of cloth and other parts of her body, like her neck, which was where his hand went next, massaging her throat before gently wrapping his hand around it, putting forth no pressure. A smirk appeared on his face along with a shot of heat to his lower areas. He was in control. If he wanted, he could snap the stem of his delicate flower.

Then he frowned, releasing her neck to instead rub his thumb along her chin and jawline. She was once an annoying weed, a dandelion that could have been blown away in the breeze. But after spending time with her, she became his flower...  _his_  Iris, who, despite needing the sun, decided to stay in his darkness. Any wrongful actions he had done to her came in the form of wind and rain, but his flower did not falter. Her stem just straightened in response, and she shook her petals and leaves dry, coming out of the storm with more beauty, wit, and wonder. The wonder was his, though. Every other plant he had tried to pick broke or wilted in his hands. Some even came with thorns, namely one.

Iris, on the other hand, stayed strong, even growing better alongside him.

Not even realizing he had closed his eyes, he opened them to the sight of his flower's slightly parted lips. His hand had already moved up to cup her face. All he had to do was move an inch forward to taste her.

But his flower was dormant.

His other hand, the one that hadn't been touching her, was gripping the edge of the bed tightly to control himself. Instead of doing something he would usually not hesitate to do, he closed his eyes again, choosing to inhale the intoxicating aroma of his specially handpicked Iris. Even before smelling her, he was under her spell. Earlier, his hand had moved without his consent, and his eyes followed. Now, he was lost among the clouds, feeling high in head and in heart, like the effects of a junkie's narcotics.

He didn't even know that he had moaned aloud.

One hand loosened its hold on the mattress while the other moved to brush Iris's hair, running through it softly as one would do a petal. The feeling of her hair was much the same, but he rather liked to compare it with a silk skirt: arousingly smooth and not long in length.

After moments of breathing her in —quite literally too since his mouth was hovering right above hers — swapping air, he began to compare her to another flower, the rose, the one that came with thorns.

She had once brought him the greatest happiness, but that was when he had made sure to check for thorns, snipping them off before they did damage. Then he slipped up, losing her in the process, and she didn't want to be found. He had given her his all, but that wasn't how she saw it. To her, every moment they had spent together was Hell. But he didn't care. He just wanted her back.

Then his thoughts reflected on both of the flowers. One he could definitely call his. She willingly and truthfully stayed by his side, protecting him at the risk of her own life even. The long-lasting high she gave him was just a bonus, and a damn well large one at that. However, the one he constantly desired, she was more and ironically like alcohol. There would be a sharp taste of bitterness or sourness, and a burning sensation would slide down his throat. Most of it was pleasant, but the effects were definitely lackluster in comparison to a druggie's high.

Roses were overrated anyway.

At that thought, he jerked away from Iris as if she had slapped him in the face. He was halfway across the room from her in a second, giving her unresponsive form a scrutinizing gaze.

 _She's not **her**_. _She can't be... She won't be... No one can replace **her**._

But his heart already knew, softening his hard gaze before he left the room.


	7. Chapter Five - Part Two: AKA Sandwich of Feelings

Iris had felt intense physical and mental exhaustion before, when she had gone too many hours without proper sleep or food, but never right after waking up. Her body didn't have the usual aches and pains of her unhealthy lifestyle either. She only felt heavy, like a weight was forced upon her.

Minutes passed before the weight began to lift slowly, until she felt like she normally would after an uncommon but nice nap. Then she was able to open her eyes, seeing the white ceiling meeting the grayish blue wallpaper of the bedroom Kilgrave had given her to stay in. At first, she was confused, but her memories returned to her in a blur since it all had happened quite fast.

An involuntary whimper was drawn from her lips, causing movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to the left to see what else was in the room with her. The usually empty, cushioned armchair was filled with Kilgrave, who was sitting about as comfortably as he could: legs stretched out, posture slouched, head tilted sideways with his jaw slackened, an arm supporting said head by propping an elbow on the arm of the chair, and the other arm laid strangely across his lap. On the floor was a half-open book facing down, the pages bending a little. His other arm must have been holding it steady in his lap to read, but he had dropped it after a nap caught him off guard.

Iris was mesmerized by the most peaceful, innocent look she had ever seen on Kilgrave's sleeping face. Despite its rarity, it did not look unnatural, rather, like it should have been like that all of the time. The coldness she was feeling earlier gave way to the warmth she got from watching him. She smiled, a light blush dotting her cheeks before she looked away.

She didn't have the heart to wake him, but she wanted to get up, an unease growing in her after she woke. Instead of calling for help, Iris carefully unplugged the machine she was hooked up to before releasing the clamp on a finger and plucking off the circles that were stuck down her shirt to the skin of her chest. Tossing back the covers, cringing when they rustled more loudly than she expected, she swung her feet over the side of the bed. Slowly, she began to bear weight upon them, finally able to stand after regaining her balance since she had been in bed for who knew how long.

Iris didn't have much trouble with walking, especially after taking a few steps, so she decided to head downstairs, hunger calling her that way. But before she left the room, her curiosity had to be satiated. The man lounging in the chair just a few feet away had stolen her primary attention.

Her bare feet stopped before his socked ones, and she stood there for awhile, just watching, waiting for something she wasn't even sure of. She couldn't help but observe his handsome features. His hair wasn't slicked and groomed like he usually had it; it was freely flopping over in the direction his head was tilted at. There were cute little freckles she hadn't really noticed before, never having the chance to leisurely stare at him. His stubble was freshly shaven since she last remembered. A temptation gnawed at her when her eyes met his lips. Although they were quite thin, they still looked delectable. They even had the most lovely tint of pink she had ever seen on a man. Since his jaw was slackened, his mouth was parted as well.

Iris forced her eyes to keep moving.

His neck was just as inviting, and she had to clench her fists to not give in to desires she had not known she had. For the first time since meeting him, he was wearing a tight sweater that seemed to have been customized for his body. His leanness was more noticeable than ever. Iris's final test came at the hands of the area below his waist. She was always drawn to hips, like her fascination with necks, eyes, and hair. The slacks he wore emphasized how perfectly he matched her ideal man, showing more leanness in his thighs while his upper body was still proportionate to his lower limbs. As for her real test, it first hit her like a bucket of cold water.

A very large bulge was straining against the zipper of his slacks. Iris had noticed it when she was busy eyeing his hips, but now her eyes refused to move past it. Upon first realizing that he, indeed, was aroused in some sort of fashion, her cheeks warmed, and she argued with herself to stop and walk away. But another side of her wanted her to do something else, something she had never done before.

She chose a third option.

Hesitantly, her hand reached out to touch his hair, allowing her to forget about his obvious but personal issue by divulging in a different form of desire. She was surprised that, on an impulse, she had not woken him. Her fingers continued to thread carefully through his hair, feeling its fluffiness.

He stirred once then twice, with a minute-long interval in between. Before he could shift a third time, Iris stopped, reluctantly removing her hand. She stepped back, picking up the book at his feet and placing it on the bed. There was no placeholder indicating where he had left off, so she just went ahead and closed it. When she did, she saw the title and smiled.

Apparently, they shared the same interest in books. This one in particular,  _The Rising Fall_ , was a favorite of hers. It had been a while since she had read it, but she remembered that it was one of the rare realistic romance novels, describing the sacrifices each partner had to make for the other. Before even starting the relationship, the characters had laid out all of their faults in the open, no matter how distressing they may have been. Only then was acceptance a possibility, allowing true love to blossom. In other words, one had to fall before rising higher than ever.

A growl rumbled in her stomach, jolting Iris out of her reminiscing. She glanced over her shoulder to see the still sleeping Kilgrave before quietly heading out of the room, leaving the book on the edge of the bed.

Once downstairs, she realized how late it must have been, for only moonlight streamed through the front door's window. A clock upon a nearby wall told her that it was twenty-three minutes past eight o'clock. It was too late to eat a meal, so she went over to the kitchen to fix up a snack.

She sat at the dining room table alone, eating her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.


	8. Chapter Five - Part Three: AKA Stabs in her Heart

_Limbs were tangled in a desperate attempt to get closer. Bare, flushed skin slid past each other._

_"Kevin," moaned his flower's voice._

_He was currently in between her legs, grinding against her sensitive areas without entering, while marking the flesh of her neck and shoulders with his mouth, using teeth on and sucking the skin. While encasing her on the bed with his body and arms, she writhed, twisting and arching her back and legs. Her hands ran themselves down his chest to try and grip his aching manhood. One of his hands quickly grabbed both of hers and held them above her head, preventing her from repeating what she had tried to do._

_"No," he said gruffly against her skin before moving his head to look her in her lust-clouded eyes. "I want to last." He kissed her lips gently before eventually getting rough, shoving his tongue in her mouth as far as it could go to taste her. Moans could be felt in her throat, and he returned the muffled sounds with some of his own._

_When he pulled away, she whined at the loss, making him smirk to himself. To make up for it, he ducked his head down to nibble and suck at her nipples. Her hands forced themselves out of his grip to run through his hair. For some reason, he could sense her fingers more than anything else — more than her slick wetness, her skin, and her voice._

_"Kevin, please," she begged wantonly but softly. He paused his ministrations to look at her intently, full of desire and warmth._

_"Tell me what you want, love," he said, wanting to hear her say it._

_"You... Kevin, **please**_. _" He watched his flower's expressions carefully._

_"Why?"_

_"Because I love you... I **need**_   _you..." He growled, pleased at her answer, and positioned himself at her entrance._

_"Who do you belong to?" he asked huskily._

_"You. Only you-" He cut her off by thrusting in between her folds. "-Ah!-"_

_"-Say my name," he ordered while pounding into her, her legs wrapping around his waist and hands clutching his back. "Say it!"_

_"Kevin," she could barely say past moans._

_"Louder!"_

_"Kevin!" she screamed._

_His thrusting soon became erratic, and he felt close to finishing. Out of nowhere, he heard a distant but irritating noise, a knock perhaps. He ignored it until he heard a voice joining the knock._

_"Sir..." a man called faintly._

_He looked at his flower to see if she had noticed it, but she didn't appear to have had, eyes still closed and panting heavily._

_"Sir!..."_

 

* * *

  _  
_

"Sir!"

Kilgrave's eyes shot open, having been disrupted from his dream. At first, he hadn't even realized that that was what it was. Looking around at the plain bedroom in Jessica's old home, he figured that he had fallen asleep while waiting for-

His heart stopped at the sight of Iris's empty bed. He quickly stood up and faced Hank at the doorway, who had been calling him.

"Where is she?!" Kilgrave asked angrily, masking his fear.

"Downstairs-" With the word barely out of Hank's mouth, Kilgrave went past him, quickly making his way down the steps.

All of the rooms downstairs were dark, except for one. He went into the dining room to see his flower munching on the second triangle of her PB&J sandwich. His shoulders sagged in relief that she appeared to be fine. She, however, thought he didn't.

"Kilgrave... Are you alright?" Iris asked after he just stared at her for a few moments, looking a bit disheveled. The focus seemed to return to his eyes, and he chuckled at her question.

"'Am I alright?' she asks," he said in disbelief while moving towards her.

The lust he had felt in his dream was lingering in the corner of his mind, making him act strangely. Iris just watched him carefully until he was standing next to her chair. Her eyes noticeably dropped from his face to his clothed groin, which was still poorly covering his large erection. Kilgrave smirked darkly to himself before realizing why he had come to her in such a rush. Since she was seated, her face aligned perfectly to shove his manhood in her mouth, and he wanted nothing more than to make his earlier dream a reality, but that was just it: it was nothing more than a frustrating dream. He swallowed heavily, locking his thoughts away to recenter himself.

"Stand up," he ordered evenly. Despite the unease she was feeling, Iris stood up slowly, leaving her snack on the plate. They stood so close that they were nearly touching each other, and she couldn't look him in the eyes, a light blush covering her face.

Hands snaked around her waist before pulling her flush against him in a tight hug. After a second, her arms wrapped around his shoulders in confusion. He nuzzled his face into her neck, forcing himself not to mark it to match his dream, and breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. It was counterproductive, since all he did was arouse himself on her smell; his dying erection reinvigorated.

Iris could feel him pressing against her lower stomach, and she instinctively pressed back with her body. Immediately, Kilgrave stiffened, and the hands around her waist gripped her hips bruisingly.

"Don't tempt a starving man," he warned her huskily. She shivered at his voice and the movement of lips against her throat. "My dinner was taken away before I could finish," he referenced to Hank's interruption, not that she knew what he was talking about.

"Sorry..." she whispered, embarrassed at what she had done involuntarily.

"For what?" he asked. There was one thing she should really be apologizing for. He wanted to make sure she knew what it was. In actuality, she didn't, thinking that he meant teasing him. She was glad he couldn't see how red her face became when she tried to explain.

"I just... I could  _feel_  it-" He pulled away from her so that they could have a proper talk.

"That's not why you should be apologizing," he stated, looking at her with crossed arms and a stern face. She, on the other hand, looked confused.

"Then-"

"-You weren't in bed when I woke," he clued. A lightbulb went off in her head, and she felt slightly guilty.

"Well, I was hungry," she started, "and I didn't want to wake-"

"-That's not it either," he said, getting angry. He uncrossed his arms to ruffle his hair frustratingly. Then he pointed a finger at her accusingly. "You nearly  _died,_ " he said through gritted teeth, emotions running high. This time, Iris didn't feel guilty.

"I took that dart for  _you!_ " she defended. "And you want me to apologize for that?!" She scoffed. "You're being ridiculous-" Kilgrave grabbed her shoulders, trying to make her understand his distress.

"I didn't ask you to!" She pushed his hands off.

"Well, I did. It's over now. I'm fine-"

"-But what if you weren't?" he insisted, getting in her face. His voice grew softer. "What if you died? Or you never woke up?" Before she could say anything, he continued, "You're right. That dart was for me. It was for a grown man, not a teen girl, and the amount in it nearly killed you." Iris eyed him strangely.

"Are you playing the guilt card?" He huffed and quickly moved away, running a hand down his face before placing both of them on the dining room table, himself leaning over it.

"Iris, I don't know if you're purposely being an idiot-"

"-Excuse me?!-"

"-or not, but get this through your head right now." He stared at her, and she could see the pleading look in his eyes, making her listen to what he had to say. "Do not  _ever_ under any circumstances place your wellbeing below mine. Although they have been doing a shit job, I have bodyguards to protect, help, or find me in case of emergencies. I could have taken that dart, and they would know what to do afterwards. Do. You. Understand?" he asked, enunciating each word. It made Iris feel patronised.

"Apparently, I don't, and I don't care-" Something in Kilgrave snapped, and he quickly and roughly bent her over the table, holding her arms against her back and using his legs to trap hers. Everytime she wriggled, his member would get rubbed in the shifting. Due to his carnal desires, he reverted back to his old ways.

"I'm not a nice man, Flower. Be thankful that I changed a little for you, and treat the kindness I show like treasured gold." His free hand rubbed a few parts of her body — parts that she wouldn't be too uncomfortable with him touching. A shiver mixed with trepidation, anticipation, and excitement went up her spine. He moved her hands to above her head so that he could press his whole body against hers. "You should care because  _I_  care," he admitted softly in her ear. His words were like honey to Iris, making her finally feel the guilt he was searching for.

"... I'm sorry," she whispered. "It was all I could think of doing..."

"Good girl," he praised, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, for being there... for doing that. But don't do it again... We'll always be fine, no matter what. But there are some things you can't do for me. I can't stand to see you hurt again... Do you understand now?"

"Yes," she answered dazedly, and she briefly wondered if his powers had finally grown to work on her.

Silence followed where Iris and Kilgrave just basked in the closeness of each other, despite their suggestive positions. He let go of her hands, which she kept above her head thinking better than to move them, and reached under her body, running his hands down her stomach before going back up under her shirt. Iris's eyes stayed closed, not being able to see much anyway, and she gasped lightly at the sensation of his hands on her skin. His fingers traced ribs before feeling the fabric of her bra.

"Please don't," she whispered, and his hands went back down her stomach. He could feel her racing heart at a place near her navel and found himself to be a little disappointed. His hands came out of her shirt to intertwine his fingers with her shaking ones above her head.

"Shh," he cooed to try to soothe her. "Shh. I'm not going to hurt you... I just need to do this one thing... This one. Little. Thing." During his last three words, Iris could hear him fiddling with his trousers after releasing one of her hands for use, and her eyes shot open.

"No," she said shakily. She would have tried better to get out of the situation if she wasn't petrified in fear and panic. "No!" she pleaded while wriggling to get out of his grip. He held her still, and as soon as he had lowered his trousers and pants to the middle of his thighs, he gathered up her hands in one of his and wrapped the other arm around her waist and stomach. When his body encased hers, she could feel his unclothed hardness along with his sack against her rear.

"Shh... Just let me do this," he said huskily, blinded by his lust. "I've seen you looking. Now,  _feel._ " He groaned as he rutted against the cleft of her cheeks. Before she could cry out, he spoke again. "This is all I want for now. Will you let me do this?" He couldn't grind himself against her properly with his legs the way they were, but he didn't want her legs free if she would kick him. Instead of speaking, she merely nodded, and he positioned his legs at a better angle. He was pleased that she was being truthful in her response as he continued thrusting his hips.

Since the doctor had changed her into light pyjamas, Iris could feel nearly everything. His balls were softer than his member, which, although fleshy, was quite solid. She could even feel the lines of veins or where the tip flared out a little to create the typical mushroom shape. At the beginning, while she was in shock, everything felt surreal, like she wasn't even there. She couldn't tell if she liked it or if she didn't. His hands never went further, so she was glad for that, but then she was confused as to whether or not she should be glad at all or if she should be sad, angry, or anything else. She didn't know if he had broken their trust or if he was just a broken man. There was a reason for everything — even actions like these.

She didn't notice a tear had dripped from her eye to the table until he slowed down.

"Flower, say something," he said, a hint of worry lining his words. At that moment, she barely heard him, and her mouth was worse off than her ears, unable to form words. He stopped completely and leaned back, removing his arms as well, to give her space. "Flower-"

"-I'm fine," she said robotically, interrupting him for the second time since she had ever met him, which clued him in that something was wrong. "I'm fine. I'll be fine." He traced soothing circles on her back.

"Iris-"

"-No. I like the other one." His heart jolted at her statement.

"Flower?" She nodded.

"Call me that even after you finish."

Taking the underlying hint as encouragement, he resumed pleasuring himself on her rear. His fingers intertwined with hers, and she gripped his tightly. Her shock had worn down a little, and she found her own sliver of pleasure in hearing his moans. With closed eyes, she focused on the one positive she had found in all of this and smiled lightly after realizing that he voiced how he felt aloud instead of keeping everything in like many men do. That was what she assumed anyway, since women were known to be more vocal than men.

"Flower," he panted. "I'm close. Tell me where."

"Not on me. Don't do that to me." She couldn't take another shock.

"Then where?"

"Yourself. Take your sweater off, and find a chair."

"You... want me to... wank off in a chair?" he asked between pants. She didn't respond. "Fine. Stay like... this then."

He quickly moved away from her to seat himself in a nearby chair, tossing his sweater next to Iris on the table, who had not moved. His hand felt a lot worse than his flower's bottom, and he was lucky enough to have had her agree to be a temporary substitute. He tugged on himself quickly while staring at her bent over figure, licking his lips and moaning. All he needed was the icing on the cake.

"Say my name, Flower.  _Please._ "

"Kilgrave-"

"-No." He shook his head even though she couldn't see him. "It's Kevin." Like Kilgrave, Iris's heart swelled at what he said. She always knew that the name he had told her was one he had made up, and she felt strangely happy to have been trusted like this.

"Kevin," she moaned mostly for his sake.

"Oh, Flower!-" He gritted his teeth as he came, shooting his own liquid onto his bare chest. "Ngh!" he groaned, squeezing the last bit out before sitting back to rest.

Then, all of a sudden, he fixed his slacks back into place, grabbed a nearby towel from the next room, the kitchen, and wiped himself off before quickly heading upstairs, all without a word to Iris.

 

* * *

 

He met Hank, who was still near Iris's bedroom.

"Hank," he called.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm heading out." Kilgrave went into his own bedroom to find another set of clothes, and Hank followed, not even asking about why he had come back up shirtless. "I should be back within five hours." He tossed a shirt, tie, and vest on his bed. "If I'm not, you know how to find me."

"Of course, sir. Five hours."

"Now, I won't be in any danger with where I'm going, so I want you to watch over my flower while I'm away." Kilgrave began to shuffle into his new clothes. When he was done, fixing his hair last, he turned to Hank with a serious look on his face. "I don't care if she trips over her own feet. She will  _not_ be hurt again. Keep track of her, and don't speak to her unless need be. She'll want some space." He got into Hank's face, which was filled with unease for once. "This is your last chance. If I come back and find a single mark on her body or misplaced hair on her head, you won't be able to see the sun in the morning," he threatened darkly. Hank swallowed.

"She'll be the same as you left her, sir." Kilgrave began to leave.

"Let's hope you don't screw up this time," he added over his shoulder.

Once downstairs, he snatched his coat off of the hanger by the door and left through the front, getting into a car to go to New York.

 

* * *

 

Still bent over the table, Iris listened to the voices upstairs. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, and she couldn't hear what they were saying anyway. The voices got quieter before she heard someone making his way back downstairs. There was a shuffle at the front door, and it opened and closed, with no goodbyes or goodnights. She turned her head to look out of the window, watching Kilgrave get into a car and leave without even looking back.

Everything came back to her at once: the feeling of him rutting against her, his touch, the things she said, the things he said, and most worryingly, the things she felt. As she got emotional, tears poured down her face, and she slid off of the table, huddling underneath it.

"Why?" she asked herself while crying, "Why did he do it? Why did I...?"

An hour passed before her tears ran dry, and she just felt numb. She crawled out and stood up slowly and carefully before walking to her room. She turned all of her room lights on and started a bath, making it extra bubbly. After peeling off her clothes, she stepped in, lowering herself into the scalding water. She hissed at the burning sensation but felt it was necessary. Once she was used to the temperature, she lathered shampoo into her short hair, massaging her head and calming her. Then she used a sponge to scrub every inch of her body. There was pain at the sides of her hips, and she lifted each side up out of the water to inspect them, seeing the light bruising. She threw her sponge at the other side of the wall as another tear ran down her cheek. She thought she was done with it all.

"Damn it!" she yelled, pulling her knees up to her chest. She rubbed her face roughly. "Stop... Just stop..." she mumbled.

Regathering her wits, Iris finished her bath and wrapped herself in new, thick pajamas, leaving the old ones in a random corner of the bedroom. Before going to bed, she locked the door for once and hid most of herself underneath the blankets. All of the lights were still on.


	9. Chapter Five - Part Four: AKA Fixing Fallen Petals

Jessica wasn't at her apartment when Kilgrave came over, and he left her a little present inside. There were two surprises, though: one in the box and one in her bed. She definitely wouldn't like one, so he called only one of them a present.

The whole ordeal didn't take long, and he had made it back within three hours. Instead of the expected light in the dining room, he was greeted with a dark house. He walked quietly up the steps and saw a crack of light streaming out of his flower's room. Hank was standing a few feet away.

"Hank," he said quietly.

"Yes sir?" Kilgrave nodded his head questioningly at her door. Hank understood and began to inform him of what she had been doing. "She went to her room, ran a bath, and I believe she is asleep now, sir."

"Asleep? With all the lights on?" he asked skeptically.

"She hasn't moved for an hour-"

"-And you didn't think to check if she wasn't dead?" he mocked before walking over to her door. "Leave." Hank went downstairs. When Kilgrave tried to turn the doorknob, he was surprised to find it locked, and his heart sank.

While he was off dropping Jessica a present, he had tried to clear his head — the three hours giving him time and space to think. Iris wasn't the only one confused; he had been trying to figure out his dream, actions, and feelings. None of it made sense to him, since Jessica was the person he loved, but his flower kept flipping things on its head. During his whole errand, he barely thought of Jessica; his thoughts centered on his flower, who he had finally managed to break. It was a rare moment of guilt and regret for him, and he hoped that she wasn't completely broken, that they could repair the friendship they had, and that she would forgive him after he explained himself.

Kilgrave took out a ring of keys and quietly opened her door. The room was too bright for his eyes since he had been in mostly darkness for three hours, and he flicked off a few lights. With his attention back on his huddled, hidden flower in the middle of her bed, he quietly stepped up to her and gently peeled back the blanket covering her face. He frowned at the tear tracks on her cheeks and sat down next to her resting figure, placing a hand on her shoulder. For a few moments, he debated whether or not to wake her or let her sleep, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful look on her face, but he knew he had to say what he needed to say right now. In the morning, it could be too late; she would want to leave, or he wouldn't admit his mistake.

He shook her gently until her eyes blinked open. Before she could do anything else, he spoke.

"Flower, how are you feeling?" he asked carefully. She sat up after scooting away from him, watching him warily.

"What are you here for?" she instead asked evenly without looking at him directly. He sighed, knowing he deserved a little bit of coldness.

"I... wanted to apologize... for earlier," he answered, reaching over to hold her hand. She stiffened but let him entwine their fingers again. He took it as a good sign.

"I trusted you," she said, feeling betrayed.

"What we did... It wasn't... I wouldn't have gone further than what you allowed me," he defended. She took her hand away, despite the sad look on his face.

"I didn't want it."

"You didn't want it, or it didn't feel right?" She blushed.

"I- I didn't like it," she explained.

"Why?" he asked, watching her expressions.

"I don't... I don't know."

"Hank told me you took a bath... Did what we did make you feel dirty?"

"Yes... It felt wrong."

"I think... that you didn't like it because it... felt wrong... and it felt wrong because you've never experienced anything like that before." She didn't respond, so he continued. "But that doesn't mean it  _was_  wrong or that I took something from you that you weren't willing to give." Ignoring her flinch as he raised his hand, he cupped her face, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. "You're still my innocent flower... Do you remember all that was said while we were...?"

"Mostly..." He smiled a little.

"You told me to keep calling you Flower. Do you still want that?"

"I did... like that."

"So, I will continue calling you that... Was there anything else that you liked? Maybe you'll realize that it wasn't as bad as you make it out to be." Her face turned a dark shade of red. "I think there  _is_  something," he said knowingly. "Don't be shy. Tell me, Flower."

"I liked... hearing you. You were very... vocal." He chuckled at her confession.

"Well, you did feel very nice. Much better than my hands you forced me to use at the end."

"I couldn't-"

"-Shh, I understand." He gently pulled her into his arms, holding her delicately like a porcelain doll. "Don't worry. It won't happen again." Iris felt a tiniest flake of disappointment. "I just needed some release over the tension of the previous hours. My flower had been hurt." He purposely left out his dream.

"You left... without a word."

"I'll admit. I was confused with... what I did. I needed to clear my head. Had an errand to run too." Iris felt disheartened, knowing that it had something to do with Jessica.

"I'm tired," she said randomly. He blinked.

"Well, um-" He released her, and she pulled away, getting under the covers. She never even looked at him. He sighed. "Am I forgiven, Flower?" She hummed.

"We'll see." He took that as a dismissal and stood up, making his way over to the door. "Goodnight... Kevin," she said quietly.

"Goodnight, Flower."

When he finally left her room, shutting and leaning on the door behind him, he couldn't tell who had been played. He made her think that what he did was okay, but she made his heart beat more wildly than Jessica ever did, jumbling up the small progress he had made to keep Jessica at the forefront of his mind.

He smirked to himself, wondering how they would handle the next few days.

"We'll see."


	10. Chapter Six - Part One: AKA Fine Dining

Iris awoke feeling like she had won a battle she didn't even know about. The previous night's events came back to her, and she chose to forget most of it — one of her coping mechanisms. She tossed on some casual clothes and went down to get breakfast, hoping that Laurent had whipped up something nice and warm. When she reached the bottom step, she knew Kilgrave was in the sitting room, indicated by the penalty shout coming from the TV. Since she had that strange boost in her step, she only hesitated a little before joining him on the couch. He was pleasantly surprised to see her slip in the room and sit down only a cushion away.

"Good morning, Flower," he greeted. She smiled and looked him in the eyes for the first time since his mostly unwelcomed actions.

"Good morning." She would have said his name, but she knew he would only want to hear it in private. He was happy that she was clever enough to figure that out.

"Are you hungry? I already told Laurent to fix some soup. He should be here with my bowl, but I'll tell him to make you some."

"I'd like some, yeah." He turned his body towards her.

"I see that you're... feeling better," he chose his words carefully. "Would you-" Laurent coming into the room interrupted his question. The chef carefully placed his large bowl of soup on the table in front of them while watching his boss's expression. "Leave," he dismissed, and Laurent left without a word.

Iris watched Kilgrave pick up the tray with his breakfast on it before scooting himself right next to her, thighs touching.

"I forgot to tell him about yours," he explained, picking up a spoon, "but he made enough for the both of us." He slipped the spoon in, gathering some of the vegetables and meat, and held it to his flower's mouth. She looked at him curiously. "Right. It's hot." He blew on the spoon to cool it down and raised it towards her again. She finally opened her mouth, and he fed her. "How does it taste?" She swallowed after chewing.

"Great. But-" she cut herself off as she watched him use the same spoon to eat some himself.

"Nice," he noted, "Not the best, but he's not Gordon Ramsay. What were you saying?"

"Um, why are you spoon-feeding me?"

"It's easier than passing the spoon back and forth. And-" He wrapped his hand around hers. "-I want to. Plus, it'll help make up for last night... Do you want me to stop?"

"No, it's just..."

"New?" he finished for her. "I think I understand." He fed her some more. "You don't know what it's like being cared for... You don't know what it's like to feel loved... Friends, lovers. Same thing. You don't know what any of it's like. And that makes you uncomfortable... uneasy... It's hard to gain your trust, but when someone does, it's incredible." He moved a reassuring hand around to her hip, but she hissed at the pain, making him jerk his hand away. "I'm sorry I took yours for granted," was all he said before continuing to feed them both.

"I forgive you," she said after a while. "But I don't think that speech was completely about me." He glanced at her.

"How did you know?"

"There's a reason for everything," she answered cryptically, repeating her thoughts from last night. He chuckled.

"Flower, you're too clever. Sometimes it's hard to think you're only eighteen." She hummed in thanks before changing the subject.

"Are we still on for tonight?"

 

* * *

 

Hand in hand, Iris and Kilgrave went to his favorite restaurant, getting a table even without a reservation. She wasn't exactly comfortable with Kilgrave ordering the waiter to tell a couple to shunt off, but the damage was already done. They were seated in a secluded corner with their menus, and he refused to acknowledge how well the violet dress he bought for his flower fit her.

"I don't know most of anything here," she said, embarrassed. He smiled at her.

"Do you want me to order for you?"

"Yes..."

"Allergic to anything?"

"No."

He waved over a waiter and gave him their orders. The waiter soon came back with a bottle of red wine and two glasses, leaving them on the table. Iris looked at him curiously when Kilgrave filled up both of the glasses, handing one to her.

"Drink up," he said while sipping his own wine.

"I'm underage," she whispered.

"In the UK, you're not. Come on," he said after seeing her stare at the glass, "Humor me." She took a large sip, only cringing a little before sitting the glass down. "Have you drank before?" he asked curiously.

"Church," she said simply, and he frowned a little.

"I didn't take you for a religious person."

"My mom made me attend a long time ago," she elaborated. "At least I could drink their wine."

"... You never talk about your family," he commented.

"I'd rather not start tonight." He could relate, from what he saw in her files, so he didn't push. She took another sip. One third of the glass was already gone. "What about yours?"

"I'd rather not," he repeated her words. "Are you getting any ideas for your next story?"

"Possibly. Is this what dating's like? It's pretty boring," she teased with a straight face.

"Boring?! You call this-" He gestured to the fanciness of the restaurant. "-boring?!" She laughed.

"I thought people who dated say they don't notice their surroundings, only the person sitting in front of them."

"Well, how shall we get each other's full attention?" She shrugged.

"You're the man with the experience. Enlighten me." He smirked before getting up and sliding into her side of the booth, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Tell me when it's too much," he whispered in her ear when he felt her stiffen.

"I asked for it. I can take it. Just stop when I say so, please?"

"Of course," he said, pressing a light kiss to her cheek, pleased at the blush that spread through them. The hand at her waist rubbed her in circles.

Soon, the waiter came with their meals, setting each corresponding plate in front of them before leaving to go to another table.

"That's duck breast with orange sauce," Kilgrave pointed out, "and I have lamb." She unfolded a napkin to busy herself, avoiding her embarrassment.

"That's not what the menu said," she mumbled, but he heard her and laughed.

"It's in French. I thought you took a few years of that?" She waved him off.

"I didn't think I would actually use it," she defended.

"Regretting that now, are you?" She slapped his chest lightly.

"Stop that! I didn't know better."

"Oh no, Ms. Straight As forgot her lessons," he mocked. She turned away from him in play anger, hiding her twitching smile. "Flower, I was just teasing." He grabbed her chin to turn her head back and saw the small smile. He poked her side in revenge, and she jolted.

"I swear to God if you start that ag-" He poked her again, and she leaned up against him to get away from the hand tickling her waist. One of her hands supporting her slipped from his thigh to in between his legs, clutching his inner thigh. He stopped and stifled a groan. She quickly moved away.

"Flower, sometimes I think you do these things on purpose," he accused. Panic rose in her chest, and he noticed it. "Don't worry. I can control myself tonight." He waited for her to scoot back over and rewrapped his arm around her waist. "Let's eat."

They ate their meal in silence except for a few comments here and there. When Iris had finished hers, she finally noticed the absence of the hand on her waist and the presence of one on her thigh. She glanced at Kilgrave, who answered her look with a squeeze.

"What are you doing?" she asked warily.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"It's not..."

"Bothering you?" She nodded. "I'm just giving you experience, Flower," he explained.

She didn't say how she was getting warm from his touch. Instead, she sipped out of her second glass of wine, blaming everything on it.

He finished his meal soon after and refocused his attention on his flower.

"So, how did you like it?" he asked.

"The food or the 'dating' part?"

"Either."

"The food was great. The 'date'... meh."

"What do you mean 'meh'?" he asked, offended.

"It's not as great as everyone else describes it."

"What's missing?"

"Well, we're not together, so we can't do what couples do." He raised an eyebrow.

"Who told you that?"

"Basically, you. You're as good as taken. I won't be caught in whatever's going on with you and... you know."

"She'll understand. I was just trying to help you." She shook her head. Inside, she knew the real reason why she was keeping him at a distance: she didn't want to give him a bunch of her firsts without her having even a tiny chance of being his last. Her heart couldn't take it.

"No."


	11. Chapter Six - Part Two: AKA Girls' Day Out

When they arrived back at the house, he continued giving her the cold shoulder, avoiding her and whatnot. Iris took that time alone to wander the house while he was out the next day, doing another "errand." She had nice chats with Laurent, Alva, and surprisingly, Hank, though he was a bit stiff. At eleven o'clock, she heard a phone vibrate, and she went over and found it on the couch. When she turned it on, a new, personal photo of Jessica appeared on the screen. Jessica had sent Kilgrave one (although her smile looked a bit forced) and she reminded Iris of Hailey.

She placed the phone back down and went to her room, getting dressed to head out. Before she opened the front door, Hank appeared.

"Ma'am, where are you going?" he asked.

"I just want to go to the mall near my school. Plexton, it's called." He opened the door for her.

"I have to accompany you," he stated. She sighed but complied.

"That's fine."

 

* * *

 

Plexton was always a popular place for teens. The mall had a store for everything: clothes for the goths to the preppy ones, jewelry, fast food, video or arcade games, tattoo parlors, and books. Iris usually never went for two reasons: she never had enough money or she didn't feel like meeting a bunch of her classmates. Today was just an off day for her; she needed to get out, and she could do with a little window shopping.

Hank had agreed to give her an hour to herself before she had to text him a message saying that she was alright, and she was currently fingering the spines of books in a Barnes & Noble. The store was having a sale, and Iris was tempted to grab a few, wasting money and space on books she would only read once. She moved over to her favorite author, Denvra Walton, the same author of The Rising Fall, and saw that some of his books were being showcased. He had become gradually popular over a few months, and she was glad he was still publishing separate novels, not series. Iris never found it in her heart to wait for updates, never knowing when the sequel would come out, so she avoided them altogether.

Carefully, she picked up his latest book,  _Forbidden Bliss_ , and checked the summary. It was another romance, but it was between two almost-lovers. Neither of them could be together because they tried to love other people, ignoring the desperate call of their own hearts. Whenever one would give in, the other was already with someone else, too late to get together.

"Well, that's just horrible," Iris said out loud, scrunching her nose.

"What's horrible?" asked a dainty voice. Iris quickly turned around to see Hailey standing, smiling a little with a book in her hand.

"Oh- um- Well," Iris stuttered, blushing. "I meant the summary-" She waved the book in her hand awkwardly. "-of this- Not the summary! Just- just the plot. It's quite, you know... sad," she finished lamely. Hailey eyed the book curiously.

"Is that one of Denvra Walton's?"

"Yes..." Hailey's smile brightened, making Iris smile despite her embarrassment.

"He is my absolute favorite!" Hailey exclaimed. "Iris, right?"

"Yeah."

"Why have we not talked more!? I finally found someone I can actually relate with!" Hailey poked her in the chest lightly. "You've been hiding from me this whole time," she joked. Iris had a slightly dopey smile on her face.

"I've just been... around... Wait." Iris's smile went away. "What do you mean? You have a bunch of friends to relate to." Hailey sighed, looking crestfallen.

"We don't share most of our interests. You wouldn't find them anywhere near a bookstore for one."

"Well," Iris tried to cheer her up, "I'm here now." Hailey hummed.

"You're right."

"What do you want to do?" Iris asked, placing her book back on the shelf. "My whole day's free."

 

* * *

 

Iris and Hailey had spent a few hours (with texts to Hank in between, of course) wandering around Plexton, chatting. They got to know each other better, and Iris realized that she had idealized Hailey; Hailey didn't have a bad personality, but she wasn't the perfect girl Iris had pictured. Sometimes, she showed how great her life was, not being able to relate to the harshness and difficulties in other people's lives, which was an important part of Iris.

 

* * *

 

They had come across a mother berating her young daughter for wanting some Legos when the child said that her mother "always bought something for her brother but never for her." Iris felt the keenest of pains because that same situation happened to her at many unpleasant Christmases over a decade ago. She remembered begging her mom to get her a Christmas present after watching her brother receive more than three, but she only got yelled at. Her dad had watched on in silence.

"Hailey, I think we should do something," Iris whispered. Hailey only looked confused.

"Why? Her mother's handling it."

"That's not... That's not how you do it. I would know."

"I'm sure her mother's just having a bad day. Let's go."

"Uh... You can go on. I have to say something," Iris told her uneasily.

"I'll stay, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Iris glanced at her in hidden disappointment before walking over to the mother and daughter.

"You're making a scene!" the mother hissed. "We're leaving. _Now_."

"Excuse me," Iris interrupted right as the mother was about to roughly drag her daughter out.

"What do you want? I'm trying. Parenting isn't easy, you know," the mother said indignantly, making Iris internally scoff.

"What's the problem with getting her some Legos?" Iris asked, getting right to the point.

"I work three part-time jobs to pay the bills, and this parasite-"

"-Don't call her that," Iris warned. "She didn't choose to have you for a mother. The least you could do is treat her right."

"Who are you to tell me how to raise my children!?"

"My mom's digging herself a hole to die in, and I'm not going to help her. Do you want your future to be the same? Dying alone? Because I can just about guarantee your daughter's going to look back on every day you did her wrong, and she'll choose to leave her mom like I did mine." The mother's anger rushed out of her face, and she got pale.

"That's not... I didn't mean..." She looked at her daughter, crouching down to her level. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she apologized, hugging her. "I just don't have the money."

"You bought my brother something," the daughter replied.

"Then next time I'll leave him out and buy you something. How about that?" The daughter nodded.

"Thanks, Mom."

"Actually-" Iris interrupted the heartwarming moment. The mother and daughter looked at her. "-how much are Legos?" she asked with a smile.

 

* * *

 

So, now Iris was sitting next to Hailey, with only two dollars in her pocket.

"I still can't see why you would just leave your mom like that," Hailey said. "There had to have been a better way." Iris shook her head.

"If I didn't get out then, I wouldn't be able to later." Iris placed her elbows on her knees to lean forward. "I was trapped, and I saw an opening that would have closed if I waited, so I took the risk, even if I had to leave them behind, letting them sabotage their own lives."

"That sounds cruel."

"... It is."

Iris's phone vibrated, and she checked her messages.

_Boss asked where you were._

_Told him._

_He's looking for you._

"Oh jeez," Iris mumbled and put her phone away without responding.

"What is it?" Hailey asked.

"My friend's looking for me... but he had been avoiding me just a few hours ago," Iris mumbled the last part disgruntledly.

"Should I go?" Iris sighed, knowing that would be best.

"I think it's better if you do." Iris stood up along with Hailey. "I'm sorry-"

"-No, no. It's fine. We've been here for like three hours already. I need to work on a school project anyway."

"Oh, that's right. I thought you would have been away on a vacation in... Cuba or something like that for spring break," Iris commented with a chuckle, and Hailey laughed too.

"My parents decided to keep it close this time. For summer, we'll be going to Europe."

"Oh, really? I just love the UK-"

"-Is that right?" asked a British-accented voice near them. Neither of the girls had noticed him walking up towards them. Iris turned to see Kilgrave smirking at her, but she could sense a hint of anger.

"Y-yeah," Iris said and gestured between Hailey and Kilgrave. "Hailey, this is my friend, Kilgrave. Kilgrave, Hailey."

"Hello," Hailey greeted.

"Yes, hello," he responded, irritated. "We need to-" He gestured to an exit nearby.

"Oh, I guess I'll see you Monday then, Iris," Hailey said. Kilgrave watched as the girl shyly went up to his flower and kissed her cheek in the same place he had.

"Right- um-," Iris sputtered, blushing when Hailey pulled away. "-Yeah. I- uh, I'll see you then."

"Bye, Iris," she said cheerfully and walked away. As soon as Hailey was barely out of sight, Kilgrave spun Iris around.

"What was that?" he hissed.

"Faith lied to me," she murmured, a little out of it. He growled and took her by the hand, pulling her towards where Hank was waiting with the car. Dazed, she let him.


	12. Chapter Six - Part Three: AKA Lies + Naiveté = Deception + Delusions

In the car, as she slowly began to slip out of her stupor, Iris felt Kilgrave's bubbling anger in the form of tension in the air. They were sitting in the back next to each other with a large space in between them. She was huddled up against the window, and he stared coldly out of his. Once, when she glanced over, she met eyes with him in his reflection in the window. While quickly moving her eyes away, a feeling of dread came over her from what she saw: he looked absolutely murderous.

Iris couldn't tell if the car ride was too short or too long. On one hand, she didn't want to stay in the stifling silence, but on the other, she feared what would happen when they would finally arrive at the house.

Immediately after the car pulled into the driveway, Kilgrave shoved his car door open and walked around to yank Iris out by the wrist.

"Stop!" she yelled, her fight or flight instincts kicking in, but he only tightened his grip on her, yanking her into the house. Her panic increased as he tugged her upstairs and toward her room. "Stop! What did I do!?" He finally spoke to her.

"You're mine," he hissed possessively. Iris furrowed her eyebrows in a mix of anger and confusion.

"No, I'm not," she contradicted harshly as they entered her room.

Ignoring her response, Kilgrave roughly pushed her onto the bed before climbing on top of her to straddle her waist. Fear gripped her thoughts, and she struggled frantically to avoid a similar situation to the one she had experienced just two nights before. In response, he growled and pinned her hands to either side of her head. When she realized she wasn't strong enough to escape, she tried begging.

"No! Please! You promised!" she pleaded through closed, teary eyes, and he chuckled darkly.

"I never  _promised_  anything, Flower," he said with a smirk. He moved her hands so that he had a free one to wrap around her jaw, forcefully tilting her head to the side. "And you need to learn that you're  _mine_ ," he growled before suddenly dipping his head to latch onto her neck, using his mouth to mark her sensually.

At the sensation of Kilgrave passionately branding her neck, Iris gasped and stiffened, unsure of the new feeling. His rough tongue would circle within the confines that his mouth had created, using teeth to leave imprints on her skin as well as trapping his tongue to that small patch of neck. He would lift up his head every so often to see if the mark satisfied him, going back to darken it when it hadn't.

Iris's struggle weakened to the point that she would only tug on his hands from time to time. Her eyes were still shut as she involuntarily arched her back into the body above hers in response to the sensitivity of the spot he was marking. Although she tried to fight against the growing pleasure in her system, he had begun to create another mark in a more erogenous part of her neck, and she let out a soft whine, to which he immediately stiffened at. A shameful blush coated her cheeks, and she tried to pretend that she had made no noise. Her efforts were in vain as she felt a smirk widen on her neck.

"You like this," he teased huskily, pleased at the sound of her mewl, and he wanted to hear more. But she shook her head as much as she could in denial.

"N-no." He tsked, annoyed at her refusal.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically. Then he placed his mouth next to her ear, whispering, "That's not what your body's telling me." She shivered, causing him to chuckle before resuming his previous actions. Though, he seemed more eager this time.

Frustrated with her emotional dilemma, Iris jerked her hands out from under his and gripped the lapels of his jacket tightly, knuckles white and creases forming in the material. Her mind was undecided on the matter of receiving pleasure versus feeling violated and abused, and she neither pulled him closer nor pushed him away, hands still fisted in his blazer.

Kilgrave had stopped, curious as to what she would choose to do now that her hands were free. Impatiently waiting, he felt her clench and unclench her fists in a war against herself. Going back to finish what he had set out to do, he ignored the new position her hands were in and continued with the sensual movement of his mouth.

"No... Stop," she protested weakly, unable to properly think.

Although she knew he was forcing something onto her, consent never having been given, she could only notice the physical part of the situation, the good feelings he was giving her. And, at the back of her mind and a corner of her heart, she liked that it was  _him_  who was doing this.

"You want this... I know you do. Stop denying it," he commanded in a soft whisper, nearly putting her under a deeper spell with his seductive tone. She felt as if the Devil himself was tempting her to give in, ruining her soul in the process. There was something niggling at the back of her mind, however, making her unable to jump straight into a deal with the Devil.

At her silence, he moved his hand from her jaw, and she slowly but willingly turned to face him directly and opened her eyes. First, she noticed how dark his eyes were, not by color but by lust, and she wondered what her eyes had told him to make his stray to her lips. Without a word, the uneasy atmosphere changed into an uncertain one as he closed his eyes, leaning his face down towards hers. Her breath hitched at the sight of his lips approaching, but he suddenly stopped a hair's width away. She could feel his breath on her face and see every one of his little freckles as she waited. Then she had the unexplainable urge to close the distance and meet her lips with his.

But she didn't move quick enough.

Suddenly, he growled and shoved himself away from her, from her bed and her room, leaving a confused and worried Iris as he quickly made his way downstairs. After a moment, she unsteadily got up and locked her door. Even though she knew that that was useless, the sound of a knock or jingling keys would at least give her a warning.

Once she was back on her bed, she drew her knees up to her chin as she roughly began rubbing the wet marks on her neck, as if they would leave like he did if she just rubbed hard enough. She hated herself for almost giving in to the selfish man and for feeling something for him that she shouldn't. It was all so stupid and so wrong. Knowing that, her shame and disappointment formed tears that just didn't want to stop.

 

* * *

 

Kilgrave's hands ruffled his hair angrily as he quickly stepped downstairs, leaving a mistake he had almost made behind in her room. His flower was supposed to have been a toy, some interesting little trinket to pass the time while he got Jessica back, but he kept seeing her in Jessica's place, beside him, always.

Urges he had acted upon in lust were excusable, but the more intimate and personal, like kissing, were reserved for his love and his love only. Yet, he had nearly stolen one from Iris just because he wanted to feel her soft lips and even taste her when he got the chance. Usually, he could care less about "betrayal," especially since he had done things far worse to that Hope girl, but anything he did to his flower made him feel as if he had infringed on Jessica, bringing Iris to his love's level, which was unacceptable.

Pacing, irritated, in the sitting room, he continued to think. A few days ago, Iris was a great friend, the best he had ever had, and she had been worming herself into places he didn't want her in. He shouldn't worry over her safety, but he did. He shouldn't have offered her a three-person relationship with  _his_  Jessica, but he had.

Another growl of frustration left his throat as he tugged on his hair. The thought of just getting rid of her crossed his mind, but his chest hurt in response, shooting down that option.

"Urgh! Get out of my head!" he snarled to himself, speaking of Iris. Leaving the sitting room to find something else to focus on, he passed by Jessica's family's height chart, and he remembered his earlier errand.

Taking out his phone that he had finally found, he was ready to send his flower a text but decided against it. He needed to give her some space, "apologize," and then tell her his plans for the next few days. Telling her now would only ruin them.

 

* * *

 

When late evening came around, Kilgrave headed up the stairs, chain of keys ready in hand. Placing his ear against his flower's door, he listened for any noise indicating her state, but he couldn't hear anything. He knocked two times.

"Flower?" he called out to her. "Flower, may I come in?" He heard the shuffle of blankets before an answer came back.

"... It's not like I have a choice, is it?" he heard her mumble loud enough for him to hear. Unlike last time, she wasn't broken, only saying a few words at a time. Instead, she was apparently in a snarky mood. He forced down a smirk at her tone before opening her door.

Once he saw her, a frown overtook his face. She was still in her huddled position, staring unseeingly at the other end of the room with tear tracks on her face. After hours of rubbing, her neck was a bright, inflamed red, and her muscles were tired.

He made his way over to her, trying to ignore a rare pinch of guilt, and sat down on the bed. Before he opened his mouth to say anything, she spoke.

"You said it wouldn't happen again," she said evenly until her voice broke at the end, tears coming once more. What he had done didn't hurt her as much as how and why he had done it. She misled herself into believing that he had cared, but he was heartless, torturing her with being nice before being cruel. "I- I thought th-that-" she stopped when her throat closed up on her, shaking her head while using her wrists to wipe her eyes.

Seeing her distress, more guilt attacked him, making his heart pang involuntarily. After stretching out his legs, he pulled her down to place her head in his lap. She struggled at first before resting her head facing away from him on his thighs, a hand clutching his knee as tears soaked his trousers. While she sobbed, he ran his fingers soothingly through her hair. When she stopped shaking, he continued the conversation.

"What did you think, Flower?" he asked, watching her face. Her hand squeezed his knee.

"I was wrong. It's not important anymore." Inside, her heart was crushed.

"Well, what were you wrong about?"

"You." He froze at her unexpected answer.

"What about me?" She shook her head, nuzzling her face deeper into his thigh.

"Forget it. I was stupid. I should have known better." But his curiosity was piqued.

"Tell me, Flower," he said, charmingly stroking her cheek with a light finger. She didn't want to say anything but knew that he wouldn't let up. To keep her big secret to herself, she only said part of the truth.

"You didn't even want to kiss me," she replied boldly, making his finger stop in shock. He pondered on what to do. Thinking hard, he realized that he did want to kiss her. He really, truly did, but there would be consequences if he dug himself in too deep, getting attached to his flower more than he already was. But if she was distraught over a missed kiss, he could help her, even though he knew that was not all she was sad about.

"Maybe I did," he countered, absentmindedly licking his lips. Iris raised herself from his lap, brazenly preparing herself.

"That would have been my first kiss," she whispered before shrugging nonchalantly. "Oh well, someone else can be my first." When she glanced up to see his reaction, she didn't expect to see a fiery look in his eyes, as if she had offended or challenged him. Her goading came out of nowhere, and she was beginning to regret it.

"No," he said firmly.

"No?" she asked in disbelief. "You-"

Her would-have-been rant was cut off as he pressed his lips against hers, holding her in place with a hand at the back of her neck. He urged her to kiss him back, moving his lips encouragingly and nipping hers. Finally understanding, she pressed her mouth against his and sighed at the feelings fluttering in her stomach.

Somehow, either from his hands or her own doing, she ended up straddling him in his sitting position. She placed gentle hands on either side of his face, sometimes moving her fingers to stroke his hair, and he moved his hands to run up and down her waist. When she mewled like she had done before, he slipped his tongue in and mapped out her mouth before pushing it against hers still lying at the bottom. Hesitantly, she lifted her tongue, letting him wrap his around it. He heard her moan unknowingly and made a noise of pleasure himself. For them both, they felt as if they were tasting forbidden fruit.

As minutes ticked by, Kilgrave moved their kiss back to the outside of her mouth, even going as far as to peck the jaw he had gripped so harshly before. Iris took it as an apology, sensing that she wasn't the only one confused with their feelings. She knew him better than she thought when she guessed correctly that he was lashing out earlier — this day and two nights ago — not knowing how to handle his feelings properly.

Reluctantly, he pulled away at the sight of her rubbed-raw neck. Picking her up gently by the underside of her thighs, he took her to her bathroom, setting her down on the edge of the sink. She watched as he shuffled through cabinets, eventually taking out a container of soothing cream. While he opened it, he wouldn't look at her.

"You really hate them, don't you?" he asked, almost ashamed. She lifted her hand to touch his marks, but he quickly prevented her. "D-d-d," he tutted. "Don't touch it anymore." He dipped his finger into the cream, tenderly applying it to her neck. She gasped at the coldness, but he took it as pain. "I'm nearly done, love-" He nearly dropped the container at his slipup, and he coughed. Iris pretended that she didn't hear it, knowing that he could once again lash out at her.

"Kevin," she said softly.

"Hmm?" She chuckled while looking away from him in embarrassment, a blush growing on her cheeks.

"Oh, I just like using your name," she admitted, making him smile genuinely.

"Well, I like hearing you say it."

"... Does it look bad? The marks, I mean." His smile went away.

"Turn around."

She followed his directions to peer into the mirror behind her. When her eyes reached her neck, her heart dropped at the sight of two, large, dark bruises noticeably sitting above the collar height of many of her shirts. That whole side of her neck was a bright red as well, if the shear layer of white cream didn't count. The more she stared at the bruises, however, the less she disliked them. In some peculiar way, she liked thinking that she was his; the main problem was hoping he was hers in return.

"Did you have fun?" she asked evenly, turning back to face him, and he avoided her eyes again.

"I want everyone to know you're mine," he defended.

"But I'm not, am I?" She sighed in irritation. "That's like saying you're mine. It's not fair, is it?" she asked bitterly.

"... No... It isn't..." He furrowed his brows in thought. The feelings she stirred in him every day certainly made him feel like she owned him, and he just wanted to own her back...

Actually, he didn't know what he wanted. That was how confused he was. He kept forgetting about Jessica in all of this and the life he wanted with her. How would his flower fit in with everything? How would Jessica? Would he have to choose between them? Everything was such a mess. Then he remembered what he was going to text Iris.

"I need to tell you something," he said, trying to be nonchalant when he knew she might argue. Curious, she tilted her head, watching his face to guess the news, but couldn't deduce anything.

"What?" she asked, nerves getting jittery.

"Jessica's coming tomorrow."

Iris's blood turned cold, and she felt like the last thirty minutes were meaningless. The care he had shown her was a lie, and her first kiss had been a waste.


	13. Chapter Seven - Part One: AKA Home is Where the Heart is

While Iris was sulking in her room, busying herself with schoolwork, the next day, Kilgrave was happily showing Jessica her old home.

"Welcome home, Jessica Jones," he greeted as he, Hank, and Jessica stood near the front entrance.

"My home never had an armed guard," Jessica stated coldly.

"Well, that's Hank," Kilgrave explained. "Say hi, Hank."

"Hi, Hank," Hank said.

"Sorry, I slip sometimes. Don't misunderstand. Hank's here because he's paid. A lot. Safety first."

"I wouldn't have walked in the door if I was going to attack you."

"Well, then you won't mind if Hank searches you." Hank stepped forward.

"I mind," Jessica argued.

"I'm not gonna command it. I was serious when I said I wanted you to choose. But trust is a two-way street. Look for any sharps or drugs," he ordered Hank, and Hank began searching her. "That was Sufentanil you nearly killed my flower with. I'm not taking any chances."

"Where is she?" Jessica asked, but Hank pulled out her phone, showing the ongoing recording to Kilgrave.

"I am Jessica Jones. This is a one-party consent to record conversations with Kilgrave in order to get his confession to the murders of Hope Shlottman's parents." Kilgrave looked at her with disappointment and irritation.

"You know how I feel about being recorded," he chastised, and Hank handed him the phone. "So, you came here for a confession?"

"I came here to end the collateral damage you've been piling up around me. The confession was a last ditch."

"I knew it wasn't out of love. I'm not delusional." He sighed heavily. "Just... optimistic. I'll show you around." He held out a hand to Jessica, but she recoiled, stepping back.

"You want me to choose?"

"Yes," he said in an obvious tone.

"I choose that you don't touch me."

"Oh, please-"

"-Ever!" He dropped his hand.

"I promise I won't touch you until I get your genuine consent. Alright then?" He gestured around the house. "Welcome."

 

* * *

 

Iris had been ignoring the sounds coming from downstairs as footsteps and voices trailed from one room to another. Then she heard claps, indicating the introduction of the staff — the same way he had done to introduce them to her a few days ago. More and more disappointment and sadness crawled into her chest, and she berated herself for ever thinking that she was special to him.

 

* * *

 

After showing Jessica a part of how dedicated he was to her, by replicating her home to a tee, Kilgrave had clapped his hands.

"I'll introduce you to the staff!" he said loudly, walking to the sitting room, and Jessica followed, seeing two new people. He gestured to them. "This is, um... Tell her your names, please."

"Laurent Bouchard."

"Alva Ramirez."

"I will not stay in a house with slaves," Jessica said with disgust.

"Oh, now you're just being sanctimonious." Kilgrave turned to the staff, crossing his arms. "Tell Jessica whether or not you are happy with your salary."

"Absolutely. I make twice as much as my last job, from which I was fired due to a drinking problem," Laurent stated.

"See?" Kilgrave asked, making a gesture with his hand. "Some of us give people a second chance," he told Jessica. "That's all. You may leave." Laurent and Alva left the room, and Jessica remained silent for a few moments.

"I'm tired," she spoke up.

"Your room awaits." Kilgrave led her up the stairs. Iris heard them approach and glanced up at her shut door, glad that she didn't have to see them. But she could hear them clearer. "Shared bathroom. It's quite the cozy home you had back in the day." Kilgrave was about to open a door, nearly placing a hand on the doorknob. "This was little Phillip's room." Jessica quickly moved between him and the unopened room.

"No," she said sternly.

"Ah. Lots of feelings for the dead brother, huh? I get that. You're not all hard edges, Jessica Jones." He turned around to open the door behind him. "Now, for the coup de grâce-"

"-Wait. Where's the girl?" Jessica interrupted, wondering about the teenager she hadn't seen yet. Kilgrave looked away from Jessica's bedroom and towards her.

"She's recovered from that dart, if that's what you're worried about." She narrowed her eyes.

"So she's here. A prisoner-"

"-No, she's not," he said firmly. "It was her choice to stay here, and she can leave when she wants." Jessica scoffed.

"How would you know what someone wants?" He smirked knowingly.

"Why don't we ask her ourselves? I have a feeling she doesn't want to see you, though."

"It was an  _accident_." Kilgrave shrugged, moving over to Iris's room.

"You can tell her that." Jessica stood with Kilgrave in front of her mother's old room, and he knocked. "Flower, may we come in?" he asked carefully. She had been cold towards him after their kiss and his announcement, but he was hoping she would get along while Jessica was present.

At the knock, Iris glanced up from her position on her stomach, which was more comfortable to do her schoolwork in. She huffed at his question, irritated and a bit uneasy, before focusing back on the papers in front of her.

"Sure," she answered loudly enough for Kilgrave and Jessica to hear.

Kilgrave opened the door and entered — Jessica as well. They were surprised to see Iris with a packet of paper and magazines strewn about, and she highlighted a word on a page before cutting a section out, placing it in an envelope to the side.

"What are you doing?" Kilgrave asked curiously, and Iris didn't look up as she spoke.

"My grammar project," she said shortly. "You know-" She shot him a pointed look. "-since I don't have anything better to do." He felt her agitation in her words.

"You know I'm busy right now," he defended with his hands on his hips.

"Yeah." Iris chanced a glance at Jessica. "I know," she responded icily.

"I was under the impression that you wanted to be here," Jessica finally spoke, and Iris rubbed her temples, not wanting to talk to her.

"I don't know what I want." Kilgrave felt a little worried at his flower's statement.

"What do you mean?" he asked, taking a seat next to her after making sure he wasn't sitting on any papers. She turned around, lying on her back, to look up at him. Even though he was putting up a tough front, she could see concern behind his eyes. She wanted to stay angry with him but just couldn't.

"Nothing," Iris said, flipping back over to continue her project. "Don't worry about it." Her words did the opposite of reassuring him, making him frown.

"Flower," he called softly and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades. She stiffened at his touch, and he waited for her to relax. When she rolled her shoulders, getting comfortable to the feeling, he rubbed a soothing circle into her back. "How about," he proposed, "I help youwith this project later?" She immediately realized that it was a double-meaning question.

"I think I can handle it myself," she said, rejecting him. "You'd throw a fit over the Oxford comma anyway," she commented, and a smile twitched on his face.

"How so?" he asked.

"They  _are_  necessary, despite what the British think."

"No. They're not," he argued lightly. "If it's a list of things, then you automatically know what they are. The comma's extra." She looked over her shoulder and smirked at him before scribbling something down on a scrap of paper.

"So-" Her pen was swishing ink into words and then into a sentence. "-if I wrote this, how would you interpret it?" She threw the paper back at him, and he read it.

_I love him, my dog and my best friend._

"Well, um..." He scratched the back of his neck. "Is there one thing or three?" Iris chuckled, shaking her head.

"That's my point," she said and snipped out another paragraph. When she flipped the page, her inner crisis returned. The next article was called "Think You're in Love? We'll See About That!" Hastily, she ripped out the page, balled it up, and threw it into the small bin at the other end of the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Kilgrave with a raised, curious eyebrow. "Not a fan of spiders," she lied to explain her actions.

"Ah."

"So, uhh..." Jessica trailed off, wondering about her name.

"Iris," Iris told her.

"Iris." Jessica glanced between Iris and Kilgrave, who seemed to have just remembered that Jessica was in the room with them, sitting more stiffly like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been. "How are you... doing here?"

"I'm fine. It beats being alone at my apartment. At least... I thought it did," Iris mumbled, but Jessica heard.

"Have you been... hurt?" Jessica asked, choosing her words carefully in front of Kilgrave. Iris looked away from the magazine to Jessica.

"Yeah," Iris said obviously, and Kilgrave furrowed his eyebrows. "That dart didn't feel great at all." He relaxed his face to give Jessica an I-told-you-so look, to which she rolled her eyes at. Then she looked at Iris sincerely.

"I... I'm sorry. It was an accident," Jessica tried to apologize.

"No, it wasn't," Iris argued. "You wanted to drug  _him_ -" She nodded her head towards Kilgrave, who was wondering where the conversation was going. "Why?" Jessica gave a wary glance to Kilgrave before looking back at Iris.

"You don't know him like I do," Jessica answered cryptically, hoping Iris would notice her hidden warning.

"That's true. But you don't  _try_  to know him like I do," Iris refuted, making a lump of shock and worry form in Jessica's throat. Ignoring the widened eyes in the room, Iris nudged Kilgrave with an elbow. "I need to finish this project while I'm in the mood," she said, indirectly dismissing them. He nodded, stood up, and walked over to the door, where Jessica had left first. Before closing the door, he looked back at her.

"Will you come down later? For dinner, maybe?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Probably not. Like I said, when I'm in the mood to do something, my mind won't let me do anything else," Iris explained, unknowingly giving Kilgrave an innuendo that made his groin twitch and thoughts dirty.

"I'll keep that in mind," he told her in a strange tone and gently shut the door. Iris furrowed her eyebrows at the joke she didn't get.


	14. Chapter Seven - Part Two: AKA The Rest Aren't Fungible

That evening, Kilgrave was sitting alone at the dinner table, waiting for Jessica to come down. He was tempted to call his flower to join him but had a strange feeling since the day before and felt even more uneasy after their talk earlier. With Laurent, Alva, and Hank with him, he chose to leave her be no matter how bored he was.

"How do people live like this?" he muttered after a sigh. "Day after day, just hoping people are gonna do what you want. It's unbearable... Then again-" He heard a door opening upstairs. "Finally," he said and walked over to a nearby mirror to adjust his shirt. Right after he was done, Jessica walked in. "No dress?" he asked, noticing that she wasn't wearing the one he had given her.

"Purple's not really my color," Jessica said offhandedly and sat down. Kilgrave followed her actions and watched her down her glass of wine, then filling up another. "So is this bag of steroids always going to be lurking?" she asked, glancing at Hank.

"You're right. This is awkward enough without armed guards hovering over dinner." Kilgrave looked over his shoulder at Hank. "You can leave." As Hank left, Jessica downed another glass, roughly placing it back down.

"So what exactly are you hoping is going to happen here?"

"That you and I will eventually make a go of it," Kilgrave said.

"Not gonna happen," she assured him.

"Well, this is a weird, wild world where anything can happen. Look at us! Super strength and mind control in the same house. Amazing," he added in wonder.

"And what are you planning with Iris?" He sighed, not wanting to answer the question. "Well?" Jessica urged.

"She's not another Hope," he stated.

"That's what you said over the phone." Jessica leaned on the table, narrowing her eyes at Kilgrave to try to figure out his plans. "I won't stay here if you're going to use her-"

"-I've done no such thing," he denied, starting to bristle, "and I won't do any such thing."

"Then why is she here?" she hissed. "She obviously doesn't know what you've done and still do to people, so why keep her here?"

"I'm not keeping her here!" he said, getting louder. "She wants to be here! With me!" he nearly shouted, pointing at himself. His eyes flicked to Laurent and Alva. "I know she's talked with you two. Tell Jessica whether or not I'm forcing my flower to stay," he ordered them.

"She chooses to stay," Laurent said to Jessica while Alva said, "She liked being here."

"'Liked'?" Kilgrave repeated, catching the past tense. "What do you mean, 'Liked'?" Alva opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say. "Alva, tell me," he commanded.

"She is saddened by your actions... and from... other reasons," Alva admitted against her will. Iris hadn't permitted nor forbade her to say those things, but Alva still felt guilty for sharing her secrets.

"And she's told you that?" Kilgrave asked, thoughtfully running his tongue along his teeth.

"Yes," she confirmed weakly, making him ponder on what he had done to his flower.

"I'll talk to her later then. Clear the air," he muttered to no one, ignoring a pang in his chest.

"What have you done to her?" Jessica questioned angrily.

"I don't know," he partially lied, gritting his teeth at her tone. "You saw that she was fine yourself. She's been in her room all day, so I haven't seen her since then." They both calmed down. "If you want, we can ask her together after dinner."

"Fine."

 

* * *

 

With earphones in her ears, Iris hadn't heard a bottle smash against the wall or the thumping in the hallway right outside of her room. She only felt the stomps, but when she took out an earbud, she heard Jessica's reassurance to Kilgrave.

"I tripped. I'm drunk. Just stay out of my shit!" Jessica had yelled, and Iris quickly put her earbud back in, hating loud voices.

 

* * *

 

Kilgrave, on the other hand, couldn't ignore more thumps and headed upstairs to knock on Jessica's door.

"Jessica?" he called, and said woman opened the door to see him. "I hope everything's alright." He stepped into the room a little, but Jessica moved past him.

"It isn't," she told him. "There's a bomb in the basement. Get Hank," she ordered, causing him to hastily follow her down into the basement.

While there, Hank carefully plucked a bomb from the pipes as Kilgrave watched with narrowed brows and eyes, standing stiffly.

"Remote detonation," Hank informed him. "Small charge hits the gas main, whole house goes up. Looks like a tragic accident."

"Can you dismantle it?" Kilgrave asked urgently, and Hank nodded.

"Someone really does have it out for you, boss."

"That someone got past your security team. Fire last night's shift. Bring in a better crew," Kilgrave commanded angrily.

"Yes sir."

"Leave." When Hank passed Kilgrave, he stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Actually, wait a moment." Hank watched his boss carefully, waiting for more orders. Kilgrave leaned close to his ear. "Remember what I said about my flower?" he asked, whispering, and Hank nodded. "That still applies. Make sure she's safe. If something were to happen to her..." he left his new threat open.

"The new crew will make sure she's well looked after, sir," Hank said confidently, and Kilgrave let him leave.

When Hank had left, closing the door, Kilgrave returned his attention to Jessica.

"You knew it was here?" he asked her.

"Lucky guess," she openly lied.

"Well, my lucky guess is that it was Trish's missing Officer Simpson. He would have killed sweet little Alva and Laurent, too."

"What about Iris?"

"You saved my life," he continued with a smile, ignoring her question. "You do care for me."

"I just can't handle another death on my conscience," she countered. "Even if it is yours. You'd know the feeling if you had a conscience."

"I have a conscience," he said offhandedly. "It's just more selective." He stepped closer to her. "I care if you die. The rest are fungible." He then moved towards the steps. "I shall see you in the morning," he added before going upstairs.

Not only did he go up to the main level but also took another set of steps to reach Iris's room. Without knocking, due to his level of anxiety, Kilgrave opened the door, entered, and shut the door quietly behind him. He expected some form of reprimand for barging in, but his flower never spoke up. When he scanned her body, which was in the same position as earlier, he realized that she had fallen asleep, her hand still holding an open highlighter and face sideways on a random page.

Smiling at the knowledge that she was safe and at how adorable she was, he began moving the papers into stacks on the floor out of her way. While doing so, his thoughts strayed to Jessica's question: "What about Iris?" His avoidance of a response wasn't because he didn't care, rather, it was the exact opposite. He cared too much, unable to stand the thought of something hurting his flower, let alone killing her. That's why he wanted to be close to her at the moment, making sure she was still there, safe and with him.

After capping her highlighter, he picked up the little scrap slivers of paper and tossed them into the trash. At the top, he saw the balled-up page he had watched Iris throw into the bin earlier. Curious, he carefully picked it out and unfolded it. He frowned, realizing that his flower had lied about "spiders", but he uncreased it on her dresser, seeing marks she must have made later on the paper. Upon reading the article's title, he silently snorted and then continued onto the numbered subtitles, where Iris had circled some:

_1\. Thinking This One's Special_

_2\. Focusing on the Positive_

_3\. Emotional Instability_

_4\. Intensifying Attraction_

_5\. Intrusive Thinking_

_6\. Emotional Dependency_

_8\. Feelings of Empathy_

_10\. Possessive Feelings_

_11\. Craving an Emotional Union_

_12\. Feeling Out of Control_

Kilgrave noticed that she had circled most of them — there being a total of thirteen on the page — and a few circles were more shakily created with a question mark, indicating uncertainty. Folding the paper up, he tucked it into his pocket before walking back over to his sleeping flower.

Still unwilling to leave her alone after a threat to their safety, he carefully moved her body into a normal position on the bed. After stepping out of his shoes and shedding a few layers, he climbed in behind her, spooning her with an arm wrapped possessively around her middle. As she snuggled into his warmth in her sleep, he kissed her cheek and sighed at the pleasant feelings swirling inside of him.

 

* * *

 

Sometime during the night, Kilgrave was wakened by movement in his arms. He slowly opened his eyes to see Iris, still asleep, waving her arm out as if to push something away.

"No... Leave me... Leave me alone..." she mumbled with a scrunched-up face. From where his hand was on her stomach, Kilgrave could feel her heartbeat getting faster. She pushed her back into his chest more, curling up into a ball with her hands covering her face and thumbs blocking her ears. "Stop," she whimpered brokenly.

Unsure of what to do, Kilgrave was about to just wake her up when she turned around in his arms, grabbing the front of his shirt and nuzzling her face into his chest. Even in the dark, he knew she was crying from the way his shirt became damp. He straightened her legs so that her knees wouldn't press into his thighs and pulled her flush against him, keeping an arm wrapped around her back. Then he carefully shifted their bodies into a position where he laid partially on top of her, with one of his legs between hers. This allowed him to use his other arm, which was propped up by the elbow, to soothingly caress her hair.

Sensing him through her nightmare, Iris sighed and gradually stopped crying. The tears left on her face were kissed away by Kilgrave, and he gave her a reassuring kiss on the lips; though, he knew she wouldn't know. When he pulled away, he was surprised to see her arch her neck, as if wanting more. Unable to resist, he nestled his face into a side of her neck, kissing under her ear lightly. At the sound of an airy, happy giggle, he smiled but stopped himself from going further.

Leaning back on his side, pulling her gently along with him, he closed his eyes sleepily. Once he felt one of her arms snake around his waist and more snuggling into his body, he fell asleep with ease.


	15. Chapter Eight - Part One: AKA Nature Versus Nurture

Automatically stretching when she woke, Iris smiled at the pleasant feelings she was seemingly getting from nowhere. Her smile went away as she heard loud shifting coming from a room down the hall. Turning to her door, she briefly wondered when she had left it open but pushed the thought aside to search for the noise.

Stepping into the hall, she immediately knew it was Jessica but was uncomfortable with talking or even seeing her. The apology helped a little, but there was something intrusive about the woman. Nevertheless, Iris felt the need to check on her at the very least.

Upon reaching Jessica's door, Iris could hear shaky gasps along with the shuffling of sheets, which could mean a few things. Hoping that it wasn't one dealing with Kilgrave, she raised a hand to knock but noticed a little sliver indicating that the door was already open. Slowly pushing the door open more, Jessica came into view, and Iris frowned, realizing that she wasn't the only one who had panic-filled nightmares.

Quickly making her way over to the fidgety, sleeping woman, despite her wish to not bother her, Iris placed a gentle hand on Jessica's shoulder and shook her awake. When Jessica shot up to lean her back against the bed and wall, panting, Iris flinched, and her eyes darted to the open door. Before she could make a hasty escape, Jessica turned to her.

"What are you doing here?" Jessica asked warily, eyeing the teenager's stiff stance.

"You were having a nightmare," Iris explained, finally meeting her eyes. "I heard you-" She pointed to where her room was. "-and was checking up to see if- um... everything was alright." Iris lowered her head and eyes, fiddling with her hands. "I- uh... I have them too," she admitted. Jessica looked around the room and tilted her head towards the open door, trying to see into the hallway.

"Is Kilgrave around?" Jessica asked quietly.

"I just woke up-" Jessica tossed the covers off herself and switched off the TV, and Iris watched her cautiously. "-He's probably eating breakfast on the porch since it's-" Jessica closed the door at Iris's words and walked close to her. "-nice outside." Iris looked up and held her arms against her chest defensively, stepping back. Seeing her frightened look, Jessica backed up a little with her hands up.

"I just want to know if you're alright," Jessica explained.

"I am," Iris said uneasily.

"He said that you're not his prisoner, that you can leave whenever you want." Iris nodded in confirmation. "Why do you stay?"

"He's... he's my friend."

"Is that what he tells you?" Jessica asked calmly, seething at the man on the inside.

"I just... assume that," Iris said hesitantly before quickly speaking. "But he is a good friend," she defended him. "He just..."

"Just what?" Jessica moved closer. "Has he hurt you, Iris? Used you?" Iris shook her head in denial.

"He doesn't- Feelings confuse him, from what I can tell... It's not his fault." Jessica scoffed.

"Do you have any idea what he does? What he's capable of?"

"No-"

"-He has killed, raped, and hurt so many people. I'm one of them, Iris," Jessica told her, trying to make her see her point. "He violated me," she said shakily, "my mind with his powers and my body with his. He's a disgusting psychopath that needs to stop." Iris shook her head, throat closing up on her, and went towards the door. Before she left, she turned around.

"I'm sorry. But you don't see what I see."

Jessica was left standing in her room, puzzled at Iris's words.

 

* * *

 

By the time Jessica was about to join Kilgrave on the back porch, Iris was already sitting next to him at his right, just now placing a pancake, some yogurt, and some fruit on her plate. Jessica lingered behind out of sight to listen.

"So, how did you sleep last night, Flower?" Kilgrave asked curiously, eyeing her over the brim of his cup.

"Well-" Iris was cutting her pancake into little squares. "-I don't remember  _falling_  asleep or even putting my project up, but it was the best sleep I've had in a while," she told him cheerfully, smiling. "Apart from a tiny bad dream, it was great." He hummed and swallowed his tea.

"And what was this 'bad dream' about?" She shifted uncomfortably and ate a piece of pancake to avoid talking, but he waited patiently. "Flower?"

"Family," she confessed shortly. At the word, he understood her more. He placed his cup down and moved a hand over hers on the table, squeezing it gently in comfort. She smiled at him in thanks. "What about you?" she asked, making him stiffen. "How did you sleep?" He relaxed after realizing she wasn't about to bring up a question on his family.

"Same as you," he answered, trying to smile instead of smirking. He let go of her hand, and the paper still in his pocket was itching him to ask another question. "I've been meaning to tell you, Flower..." he trailed off.

"Hmm?"

"Well, ask, I suppose," he mumbled before speaking up. "Do you still fancy that Hailey girl?" He watched her reaction.

"No," Iris responded, surprising him. She ran a hand through her hair, letting out a breath. "That day at the mall showed me how different we were.  _Too_  different, you know?"

"Is there someone else you have in mind?" He caught the blush the question created on her cheeks.

"Nah," she said, trying to be nonchalant while avoiding his eyes.

He was about to pull out the article he had found in her trash when Jessica finally made her appearance. Thankful for the distraction, Iris ate her breakfast, and Kilgrave watched as Jessica sat down, piled food on her plate, and poured herself some coffee. Noticing his stare, Jessica spoke.

"What?" she asked, irritated.

"Just waiting to see which Jessica I'm going to get," he told her, and Iris let the two talk as if she weren't there.

"When I was a kid, we used to eat breakfast out here."

"Okay, trying-to-make-an-effort Jessica," he commented.

"More like trying to make a shit situation more tolerable."

"... I'll take that."

"Do your actions ever haunt you?" Jessica asked him after a moment, glancing at Iris. He glanced at her as well.

"I used to rarely dwell on anything."

"Not even Hope's family? I mean, how would you feel if someone forced you to off your parents?"

"Wouldn't have to force me," he muttered, and Jessica looked at him curiously.

"You never talked to me about them. Why is that?"

"Same reason why Flower doesn't want to about hers, I suppose." He looked at Iris, who was looking back. "Rather not relive it. Am I right?"

"Yes," Iris agreed softly, and they continued gazing at each other until Jessica spoke again.

"So, killing Hope's parents, that was really about them?" she asked, and Iris shuffled uncomfortably at the thought of him killing anyone, heart aching for them both.

"No," he contradicted, "that was all about you. I was mad at you for literally throwing me under the bus."

"What?"

"I'll explain later, Flower," he assured Iris.

"Maybe you should explain about Hope's family, too," Jessica suggested, angrily mocking.

As Kilgrave opened his mouth to retort, the three at the table heard another voice.

"Jessie Jones, is that you?" an older woman called.

"Shit," Jessica hissed quietly.

"Who is this lovely creature?" Kilgrave asked, standing up after Jessica and Iris to greet the woman.

"Nosy neighbor," Jessica mumbled. "Let me get her out of here." She walked over to the edge of the porch. "Hi, Mrs. De Luca," she said with fake eagerness.

"Oh, Jessie!" De Luca exclaimed happily, meeting Jessica at the porch to give her a hug. "It's been so long. Oh!" She held Jessica's arms when she backed away to examine her. "Look at you. Such a lovely woman." Then she looked around Jessica. "Oh, and returning home with such a handsome husband!" she said to Kilgrave.

"No, we're not married," Jessica argued, irritated, but De Luca ignored her.

"And his beautiful daughter, too!" De Luca added, looking at Iris.

"No, she's not my daughter," Kilgrave corrected her immediately and before she could ask, said, "I know her parents. They wanted me to take her under my wing, so to speak, while she's on spring break."

"Oh, and for what?" De Luca asked a little suspiciously, eyeing the space between him and Jessica and the closeness between him and Iris.

"She loves writing, so I help her with her stories and structure."

"Is that so?" De Luca questioned Iris, who nodded. "Jessie, may I speak with you for a moment? Alone?" Kilgrave and Iris looked over at Jessica, who gave them an I-don't-know shrug.

"Alright, Mrs. De Luca," Jessica complied and walked with the older woman to the front of her neighbor's house. "So-"

"-I'm so sorry, sweetheart," De Luca cut off her question.

"For what?" De Luca shook her head sadly.

"I have to tell you — there's something going on between your husband and that girl." Jessica let out a fake gasp, going along with it to get more information.

"What- what do you mean?"

"The way they look at each other — they're in love. It's how I would look at Danny, my husband. Remember him?"

"Yeah, but maybe you're just seeing things, Mrs. De Luca." Jessica pretended to be a housewife in denial.

"No, no. They're just too close. He was closer to her than to you just then. Such an obvious dog, he is. Oh, Jessie, you should have seen them the other day," De Luca said dramatically.

"What happened?" Jessica asked with a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

"Well-" De Luca moved closer to her as if sharing the best gossip she had ever had. "-when they came home — in the same car, might I add — he drug her into the house like he was starving and she was Thanksgiving dinner," she whispered scandalously.

"No... You don't mean-"

"-Mhmm. I bet if you looked hard enough, you'll still be able to see some proof of that evening right on her. Shameful, they are. She's so young, too. He should at least know better," De Luca chastised the two people that weren't even there.

"Oh, Mrs. De Luca, thank you for telling me. Is there anything else you've seen?" De Luca shook her head.

"I think that was all, Jessie. If I remember or see any more, I'll let you know."

"Well, me and... Need to have a little chat, you know?" Jessica told her, beginning to drop the act. "I'd wait inside until this all blows over if I were you."

"Oh- um, alright." De Luca stepped over to her front door. "Well, I'm here if you need me, Jessie," she added before heading inside.

"More like if you want to spread more gossip," Jessica muttered to herself while walking back over to Kilgrave and Iris. "At least your nosiness came in handy, Mrs. De Luca," she said quietly, hiding a smirk.

 

* * *

 

Back on the porch, Kilgrave and Iris had resumed breakfast and were discussing something when they finished. Their chairs were right next to each other, touching, and Iris's laptop, which she had quickly gotten at his request, was placed on the table. He was scrolling down the screen, reading, as she nervously bit her lip.

"Oh," he said, reaching a changed part in her writing. "That's much better."

"Thank you," she said shyly, and he smirked.

"I know why, too," he teased.

"Stop," she pleaded lightly, blushing, and tried to cover her face with the turtleneck she was wearing. He laughed at her silliness and playfully moved her hands away.

"You're making me rethink how often we should..." he trailed off, staring at her lips.

"'How often you both should' what?" Jessica asked, finally reaching them. Kilgrave and Iris tried to stealthily — not really — straighten themselves out like they weren't caught doing something they shouldn't be.

"I wasn't lying when I said Flower loves to write," Kilgrave said, avoiding a straight answer.

"That's not what I asked, Kilgrave," Jessica said coldly. "Anyway, there's something bigger we need to talk about." Her stare at Iris caused her to shuffle.

"Like what?" he asked indifferently, eyes on Iris's laptop.

"I thought Iris was 'just a friend.'" Jessica hated sounding like a jealous girlfriend. Kilgrave carefully closed the laptop and faced her.

"She is," he said, and Jessica gave a sardonic laugh.

"Rape-"

"-What?!-"

"-doesn't happen between two 'friends'!" Jessica hissed, and Kilgrave grew red in anger.

"What are you talking about!?" he nearly yelled, and Jessica looked around the neighborhood, seeing some joggers turn their heads towards them.

"Don't play dumb!" she hissed quietly, and Iris shrunk in her chair, starting to feel the old but familiar squeezing in her chest whenever people would argue near her and she was stuck in between.

Hearing a whimper from his flower, Kilgrave picked up her laptop and took her hand, leading her inside the house while Jessica followed. She watched as he told Iris to sit down, placing the laptop in front of her to give him another free hand to check her over. After making sure his flower was fine, he lightly ran his fingers through her hair.

"Thank you," Iris said quietly. "It was just..."

"Family," he finished for her. "I know."

"Kilgrave!" Jessica snarled, making him turn to look at her. "You lied, and you made her lie."

"About what?" he asked, still angry and confused. Jessica pointed a finger at him.

"You've raped her," she accused, shocking both Kilgrave and Iris.

"No-"

"-How many times?" Jessica asked either of them.

"He hasn't-" Iris tried to protest, but Jessica shook her head.

"-You won't know, or you can't say. Not until the twelve hours are up. That's how it was for me," Jessica told her.

"What?" Kilgrave asked in disbelief. "Which part of staying in five-star hotels, eating in all the best places, doing whatever the hell you wanted, is rape?"

"The part where I didn't want to do any of it!" Jessica yelled at him. "Not only did you physically rape me, but you violated every cell in my body and every thought in my goddamn head!"

"That is not what I was trying to do," he told her.

"It doesn't matter what you were trying to do. You  _raped_ me-"

"-No-"

"-again, and again, and again!"

"How am I supposed to know!? Huh?!" he exclaimed. "I almost never know if someone is doing what they want or what I tell them to!"

"Oh, poor you," she mocked.

"You have no idea, do you?" he asked roughly before getting emotional, "I have to painstakingly choose nearly every word I say!" He quieted down and moved closer to her. "I once told a man to go screw himself. Can you even imagine?"

"Jesus," Jessica muttered, and Iris scrunched up her face at the image.

"I didn't have this — a home, loving parents, a family," he said, walking back towards Iris, who held his hand for both their comfort.

"You blame bad parenting?" she asked with narrowed eyes. "My parents died! You don't see me raping anyone!"

"I hate that word," he grounded out.

"Just admit it. Your parents had nothing to do with why you force-"

"-Do you want to see?" he asked and roughly placed the USB that was in his pocket down next to Iris's laptop. "Do you want to see what they put me through?" Jessica watched as he plugged the USB in and opened up a video. Pulling up another chair next to Iris, he gestured for Jessica to sit down. When she had, he moved the laptop so both women could see and stood behind Iris. "Watch this and tell us which one of us was truly violated." A video of a lab flickered on. "Welcome to my home."

"Put the pieces back together in the correct pattern," a man's voice told the young boy on the screen. Iris frowned when she noticed how horrible the boy must be feeling as he shook his head.

"Kevin, please," a woman's voice said. "We need to see if your fine motor skills have improved."

"That's my loving mum and dad," Kilgrave explained.

"Come on, Kevin. You know what you're supposed to do," his dad encouraged harshly.

"Scientists bent on turning me into a freak." Iris looked up over her shoulder at Kilgrave at his words and placed a hand on his crossed arms.

"But you're not," Iris assured him softly, making him smile bitterly and step closer to her, holding her hand in his and supporting himself on her chair. He used his free hand to skip to another part of the video, where young Kevin was finishing putting the blocks together.

"Neurological exams, fluoroscopy, brain biopsies," Kilgrave elaborated. A gloved hand picked up a syringe in the video. "And my personal favorite: cerebral spinal fluid extractions." Iris watched apprehensively as young Kevin was bent over a table by his parents.

"Hold still, son. This will only sting a bit," his dad reassured terribly.

"This will all be over before you know it," his mum added.

"No, mummy, please!" Iris flinched at young Kevin's screams, and Kilgrave squeezed her hand.

"Don't move." As the syringe was inserted, the screams became unbearable. Iris turned around.

"Turn it off," she pleaded, tears brimming her eyes.

"No," Kilgrave told her and wiped her tears with a gentle hand. "You have to see." As he heard his own screams, he moved his hands to cover her ears, and she placed her hands over them. "But you don't have to hear." He turned his focus to Jessica, who was watching the video and his actions in shock. "While your dad played with you on the front lawn," he told her, "my dad prepped me for my fourth elective surgery. How's that for love?"

The video continued, showing the first time Kilgrave used his powers.

"Stop!" he shouted to his parents, making them pull away.

"Kevin, dear, we're not finished."

"Calm down. If you just-"

"-Get away!" he ordered them, and they stepped around the table.

"Albert... What's happening?"

"What's going on? Kevin?"

"Kevin."

When his younger self looked into the camera, he closed Iris's laptop.

"Like you, this power was forced upon me," he told Jessica morosely and began walking to the sitting room. "I thought you of all people would understand. Turns out, you don't have to have powers to."

While Jessica was still processing the new information, Iris wiped her eyes, picked up her laptop, and followed Kilgrave to the couch. She sat in her spot at the end with the pillow, next to the lamp and end table, and Kilgrave was seated in the middle, flipping a news channel on.

After she had carefully sat her laptop on the end table and gotten comfortable, Kilgrave rested his head on her thighs, stretching his body along the length of the sofa. Focusing on the traumatized man in her lap, Iris soothingly ran her hands through his fluffy hair. He took one of her hands and held them to his chest. Rubbing his thumb across her soft skin calmed him, and he traced his fingers along the lines in her palm.

When he looked up at Iris, he saw each and every little emotion he wished Jessica had in her eyes. Without thinking, doing what he felt his heart was pushing him to do, Kilgrave sat up and kissed her softly and slowly. Iris was surprised but returned the kiss happily, showing as many gentle emotions as she could muster. They pulled apart even though they didn't need air, and he pecked her lips once before settling back down into her lap. Her hand resumed petting his hair, and he watched another cute blush grow on her cheeks, which she couldn't cover up since both her hands were occupied.

Spying the turtleneck that she had tried to use earlier, he looped a finger into the collar and tugged it down enough to see his faded marks. Feeling self-gratification, he licked his lips and looked up at her mischievously. He caught her eyes before she quickly moved them to another spot in the room, a darker flush crawling up her face in embarrassment. After letting go and moving the collar back into place, he gave a deep chuckle before growing serious.

"Flower," he called thoughtfully, thumbing her hand again. "You know how to make me feel better... in more ways than one."

"That's what friends are supposed to do," Iris mused, and he glanced at her with a strange look in his eyes.

"You're more-"

"-That's what you wanted from Reva," Jessica interrupted him, finally stepping into the room where the two had nearly forgotten about her.

"It was the only evidence left of how I was made," he added on to Jessica's statement.

"So no one knows you exist, except your parents, if they're still alive," she guessed aloud.

"Probably. They were young. They ran away. From promising careers-" He let out a heavy breath. "-and their ten-year-old son." Iris rubbed his stubble to bring his focus away from his past, and he looked at her curiously, which she returned with a shy smile, making him smile as well. Their interaction did not go unnoticed by Jessica.

"You're not ten anymore," Jessica continued anyways. As she sat down in one of the recliners, she glanced at the TV. "All this shit that you do is because nobody ever taught you how to be good?" she criticized.

"I truly hope you're not laughing at me, Jessica," he said sullenly.

"No, I'm not. I'm just thinking." Jessica looked at the TV again, and Iris looked as well. "I think we should go for a ride," Jessica said out of the blue, getting up to put her jacket on.

"I assume you have a destination in mind?" Kilgrave asked curiously

"Yep," Jessica answered shortly.

"How long will it take?" She shrugged at his question, getting irritated.

"Two hours. Tops."

"Well," Kilgrave said, not moving from his spot on Iris, "I quite like where I am now." Jessica rolled her eyes.

"You can do that in the car. Now, come on."

"Will she be safe?" he asked seriously. "Where we're going?"

"I don't know. You tell me." Jessica pointed at the TV, where an ongoing hostage situation was being described.

"Absolutely not," he said with finality. Feeling like he had to, Kilgrave reluctantly stood up from the couch and followed Jessica to the front door, shrugging on a coat himself. Turning around, he went back to Iris, who had followed him halfway. "As much as I want you to," he told her honestly, "you're not coming with me. It's too dangerous. Like I said before-" He leaned close to her ear so Jessica wouldn't hear. "-I care about you, and I can't see you hurt again."

"I understand," Iris whispered, a little disappointed that she couldn't come. Seeing the sad look on her face made him do something in front of Jessica he almost regretted: he pecked her cheek and watched a smile twitch on her face. Stepping back to the front door, he added over his shoulder.

"If I'm not back within two hours, please jump off the roof of this house," he ordered with a wink to her out of Jessica's view. He knew that his flower wouldn't follow through, but Jessica didn't.

As they left, Iris placed the back of her hand on her cheek, feeling how flushed she was, and she let a smile freely grow on her face as warm feelings swam in her stomach and chest.


	16. Chapter Eight - Part Two: AKA The Hero Thing

"Oh, you want me to do the hero thing," Kilgrave realized as he and Jessica walked towards the building.

"Yep," she confirmed. The man holding his family hostage, Chuck, shut the window, making Jessica look around for a better entrance. "Come on," she said, going around to the back of the building.

"I don't give two shits about these people," he admitted, following her. "I don't want to do this. I don't want the attention it could bring," he went on to complain. "You know where I could've been right now?"

"Yeah. You could've been a pussy on Cat Lady Iris's lap, playing with a ball of string while she pets your stomach like the good little puss you are-"

"-That was uncalled for." She stopped him at an open gate leading to the backyard.

"Well, you can stay here or you can be a chickenshit. Either way, I'm going in." Kilgrave chose to follow Jessica, and an officer stepped in front of them.

"Stop. You can't come through here," the cop said, preventing passage. Jessica gestured to the officer. "Well?" Kilgrave sighed.

"Let us through," he ordered.

"Yes sir," the officer said and stepped away.

Jessica and Kilgrave got closer to the back of the house but met two more officers.

"Woah-woah-woah-woah-woah," one of them said. "What are you doing here?"

"We can go about our business. Move along." At the officers' hesitance, Kilgrave repeated, "Move along." As the officers left, Kilgrave and Jessica opened a gate, going into a fenced off entrance to the building.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" she mocked.

"But cooler," he added as they approached a grated glass door. "Oh, well, that's that, then." Instead of heading back home like he had hoped they would, Jessica used her strength to pull off the metal blocking the door, setting it aside after taking it off its hinges and unblocking their way.

As they entered the home, they could hear the pleas of a woman and Chuck's shouting. When they passed the drapery leading into the sitting room where the family was, Chuck spotted them, moving the shotgun's aim to them and cocking it.

"Don't shoot. Don't move, Chuck," Kilgrave ordered before they could be shot, and Chuck was forced to watch on as Jessica moved over to his family on the couch.

"Can you walk?" she asked the crying woman.

"Who are you?" the woman asked instead of answering.

"You need to get outside. The police will help you. Come on," Jessica urged.

"You can't just-"

"-Oh, shut up, Chuck," Kilgrave interrupted, disgusted by the man.

"Thank you. Thank you," the hostage told Kilgrave gratefully, and he looked at her with mostly concealed surprise.

"Don't tell anyone we were here," he commanded, making sure a trail couldn't be led back to him.

"Go, now!" Jessica urged again, and the woman and her children quickly left the home.

"Well, now that's out of the way," Kilgrave said lightly, moving towards Chuck. "Put the barrel of the gun into your mouth," he ordered him. Chuck reversed the direction of his shotgun, placing the open end within his mouth fearfully.

"You can't kill him," Jessica said sternly, and Kilgrave turned around to face her.

"No," he agreed, "but he can kill himself. The man's clearly insane. He is never gonna be a productive member of society."

"That is not for you to decide." She was fighting for Chuck's life, even if he was scum.

"He will go to prison and feed off the tit of the taxpayers-"

"-You've never paid a goddamn tax in your life," she argued.

"I make use of what I get. I'm not going to rot in a jail or psychiatric ward for decades, being useless and doing nothing. What do you have to say about that?" From Kilgrave's resolute tone, Jessica couldn't find a convincing enough reason for him not to kill Chuck, and he knew that. "Alright then." He turned back to the man holding the tip of his shotgun in his mouth. "Chuck-"

"-What would Iris say?" Jessica quickly came up with in a panic. "If she was here, what would you do?" She couldn't notice the full effects her words had on him. His heart clenched at the image of his flower's disapprobation towards his actions — enough to make her leave and never forgive him. Turning back to Jessica, he hastily concealed any hint of his thoughts and feelings.

"She'd rather him turn himself in..." Kilgrave responded after a moment of thinking. "Probably curse him out before he does," he murmured fondly to the side before speaking up. "Shotgun's too messy anyway." After deciding to spare Chuck, he gave him a different order than the originally intended one. "Put the gun down. Turn yourself over to the police." Slowly, Chuck pulled the gun away and tossed it on the floor, letting out a whimper as he did. "And do not tell anyone about us," Kilgrave added as the man left. With crossed arms, he let out a disgruntled complaint. "What a waste of energy." Jessica scoffed in disbelief.

"Was it? You just saved four lives," she said before leaving the room. Kilgrave frowned in thought, following Jessica when he remembered who was waiting at home. He couldn't wait to see the astonished look his flower would give him after telling her what he had done.


	17. Chapter Eight - Part Three: AKA Second Best

Iris was carefully watching the news, sipping tea — a British habit she had picked up from Kilgrave — and nervously hoping that him and Jessica would return safely. Being so focused on the scene unfolding on the TV, she hadn't heard the car pull up into the driveway. All of a sudden, the front door squeaked open and a loud voice called out, startling her.

"I want cake!" Kilgrave said loudly in his excitement to the chef in the nearby kitchen. He spotted his flower standing up to greet him and smiled widely at her while shedding his jacket. "I suppose you'd want a Harvey Wallbanger one, Flower. Anything with oranges," he teased, making her blush.

"Oranges are good," she defended, and Kilgrave kept smiling. He raised his voice again.

"Make that a Harvey Wallbanger cake!" Iris began to protest.

"No, no, you don't have to-"

"-Flower," he spoke gently, "don't worry. I want to try it, too."

"Oh, alright then... So, how did it go?" she asked while he led her by the hand back over to the couch. He wordlessly gestured for them to get in the positions they were in before he had left, and she was eventually back to petting his hair. This time, however, one of his legs touched the floor, and his knee was bouncing up and down excitedly.

While he was telling an eagerly listening Iris the beginning and middle parts of the "hero thing," Jessica walked in and joined them in the sitting room.

"... You should have seen it, Flower. The look on that woman's face. The genuine awe and gratitude for me," he said proudly, happily drinking in the amazed look on his flower's face. Once he had spotted Jessica, he spoke to her. "Is that why you did the whole superhero thing?"

"I don't know," Jessica answered with a half-shrug.

"Or was that about balancing the scales? All that survivor's guilt you carry around because of..." he trailed off with a deep breath. Iris didn't want to pry, but Jessica could see the curious and confused look on her face.

"It doesn't work like that," Jessica told him.

"Why not?" he protested. "You're so outraged by all the people I've affected. Do the moral maths. How many more lives do you think I'd have to save to get back to zero?" he asked thoughtfully. Iris stopped stroking his hair and frowned. He was about to ask why, but Jessica was talking.

"Saving someone doesn't mean unkilling someone else," she stated in disgust to his words, and he glanced up at his flower, who wouldn't look at him, and pieced together her sudden coldness.

"Well, even so," he still said to Jessica, "we should do this more often. Think of all the people we could help, all the crimes we could stop. We'd be a hell of a dynamic duo."

"You don't need me to do that," Jessica spoke quickly.

"Are you kidding me?" he countered. "That man almost blew his brains out-" Iris cringed at that. "-which I genuinely thought was the right thing to do. I can't be a hero without you."

"I wasn't able to stop you," she denied. "It was Iris who did."

"What?" Iris asked, clueless to how she could have done anything, and Kilgrave sat up, ignoring her for the moment.

"Jessica, you know she can't come. She doesn't have powers. And technically, you did stop me."

After looking at the young teenager sitting at the end of the sofa, Jessica sighed, feeling responsible for her safety. She couldn't put Iris in her place and run from Kilgrave like she really wanted to. That would be like abandoning a child to a hungry wolf.

Jessica stepped over to the front door and leaned against the frame with a forlorn look growing on her face.

"Oh my God. You're right," she said shakily as Kilgrave got off the couch to go over to her.

For the first time, Iris could tell how much Jessica hated to be near him. The thought of having to stay with him sucked the life out of her, shown by how pale Jessica, who was already very pale, had gotten.

"I've got a whole new purpose in life," Kilgrave spoke from the sitting room's doorway. "It's exciting. You, me, Flower, together, we can change the world. We can be happy." But happiness was the farthest thing from Jessica's mind, and she began to leave the house. Before she could, Kilgrave blocked her path with an arm across the front door's doorway. "Hey, what're you doing?" he asked hastily.

"I need to go for a walk alone," she explained.

"Why? I thought this is what you wanted," he said agitatedly.

"I need to think. It's just a walk." He gave her a hard look and tilted his head.

"Well, I hope so. I don't think Alva and Laurent could survive the letdown if you didn't come back," he threatened.

"I came here of my own free will. Trust that I'll come back," she said in a quieter tone, and he let her leave. Kilgrave watched her retreating figure and sighed.

"Kilgrave?" Iris called, trying to distract his frustration. He headed back over to her with his hands on his hips. After glancing around, he gave her a pointed look, and she smiled, knowing what he meant. "Kevin."

"Hmm?" He was standing close to her, and she tugged on his hand.

"I miss your fluffy hair. Please, come lie down again."

"Oh, alright," he complied begrudgingly, even though he missed feeling her touch as well.

 

* * *

 

While he was staring up at his flower, finishing up relaying the day's earlier events at her request, Kilgrave noticed how her eyes would flicker down to his lips. Her innocence made her obvious, and he couldn't help having the smirk that tugged on his face.

"So neither of you got hurt then?" Iris asked, concerned. "You shouldn't just walk into a room with an unstable man holding a gun," she chastised.

"I'm clever enough to get out of a situation unscathed. Which we are, by the way," he added and scanned her face. "Flower... you don't have to be so shy. Then again, that's part of your charm."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-" He sat up, placing his arms on either side of her, encasing her body. "-that if you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask," he told her softly, and she would have focused on blushing if she wasn't distracted by how close his face had gotten to hers. "Better yet, I'd like for you to initiate it this time." Looking away from the chocolate gaze that had enthralled her, Iris began nervously fiddling with her hands.

"I don't..."

"Don't what?" he asked while brushing back some of her hair to behind her ear.

"I don't-" She took a deep breath and reworded her sentence. "-I'm still new to this."

"Then try. You know I won't bite... Hard."

Preparing herself, Iris carefully placed one hand on his shoulder and used the other to cup his cheek. She closed her eyes and quickly covered his lips with hers. When she didn't feel him immediately reciprocate her mouth's movement, she was embarrassed and frustrated enough to nip his bottom lip, making him give a husky chuckle and finally dance his lips with hers.

While Iris was busy focusing on the sensations their kissing created, Kilgrave had slowly shifted their positions so that he was lying on top of her, nestling his hips between her legs. His arms went around her back to keep her as close as possible, and her hands hesitantly trailed past his shoulders and down his back, feeling tense muscles. She could sense his stress from a mile away.

"Kevin," she called softly, breaking their kiss, and he frowned at her, wondering why they had stopped.

"What?"

"Are you alright?" she asked, filled with concern. Then she quickly explained herself. "It's just that you feel very... wound up right now." He sighed but appreciated being looked after, which was a rarity. Before he answered, he rested his head sideways on her chest, listening to her heartbeats to keep in mind that someone cared and was there to stay for him — willingly.

"What if she doesn't come back?" he asked the question that was worrying him. Iris's heart clenched in pain, but she hid her frown. Trying to help the anxious man, she did what she always did: ran her fingers through his hair.

"Did she tell you she was?"

"Yes, but... she could leave, and I'd never see her again." He raised his head in a panic. "What if she's halfway through another state right now?!"

"Kevin." She cupped his jaw to bring his eyes into focus. "Kevin, if she said she's coming back, then she'll come back. She came here willingly, yeah?" He nodded silently, and Iris had never seen the man so troubled — troubled enough to rely on her in such a vulnerable way. "Then she'll come back," she repeated. "I'm sure of it, Kevin." After seeing his mind ease a little, she pecked his lips, making a half-smile appear on his face.

"Flower. My flower," he said gratefully before nudging her side enough to slip in the space behind her, spooning her like he had done last night. Because she got cold easily, Iris kept a blanket on the sofa at all times, and he pulled that blanket over them both, making her giggle.

"What are you doing?" she asked lightly, happy that he seemed to feel better.

" _We_  are going to take a nap."

"Right here on the sofa? It's the middle of the day." She felt him shrug.

"Being a hero is tiring," he excused. He hadn't expected her to turn around in his arms like she had done when she was asleep. When she faced him, she spotted the formal attire he still had on and raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't the tie choking you a bit? And-" She nudged his feet with her bare ones. "-you still have shoes on."

"Today's my lounge day. Too lazy to take them off." She laughed at his silliness.

"Every day's your lounge day. Here, let me..." She slowly — so that he could stop her if he wanted — moved a hand up to his collar, looping a finger into his tie and pulling it gently down to have a bigger loop to move it over his head. When she finally got the tie off, she placed it on the end table, and nervously began unbuttoning his tight vest. During the whole ordeal, he was watching her intently.

"I didn't think you were ready for that," he teased cheekily, and the usual blush blossomed on her face.

"You know I'm just helping you get comfortable."

"There's plenty of other ways to do that."

"No!" Her blush grew darker. "You know what? Just- Oh, nevermind," she huffed, making him chuckle. He stopped teasing her for the moment and let her sit up and take off his shoes, placing them under the table. Thinking that she was finished, she was about to snuggle into his warm chest when he prevented her with a raised hand.

"Oh, you're not done, Flower," he said huskily. "If I sleep with a lot less layers on, I know I wouldn't want my shirt tucked in or a belt digging into my sides."

Feeling brave and confident, Iris didn't even comment as she gingerly tugged his fancy shirt out of his trousers. Her breath caught in her throat as his shirt accidentally came up a little higher than she had thought it would, and his lean Adonis belt showed. Slowly forcing herself to turn her attention from one belt to another, she carefully unlooped the leather and slipped it out of his trousers' belt loops, failing at keeping inappropriate thoughts from her mind. She reached behind her and placed the length of leather on the table, hearing a small clink on the glass from the metal buckle to know she hadn't missed.

At the end of it all, Iris was completely flustered, and Kilgrave knew it. He smirked while she avoided any eye contact at all, finally just being able to nestle up against his body to take a nap. While she closed her eyes with his arms wrapped around her waist, he thought to himself for a moment.

He wanted her  _now_. Even if his flower wasn't willing, he could just take her...  _deflower_  her. Nothing stopped him from taking the others before, but... this was different.  _She_  was different, and picking a flower too early would ruin it — kill such a beauty and a rarity. No, he could wait. Jessica could return at the wrong moment and see them. She  _was_  going to come back after all.

At his last, deciding thought, Kilgrave pulled his flower, who had already managed to fall asleep, in closer and let his eyes drift closed.


	18. Chapter Nine - Part One: AKA Leaving the Flower Bed

Brrrzzt... Brrrzzt... Brrrzzt...

The sound of a cell phone vibrating on the glass table was loud enough to wake both Iris and Kilgrave; though, Iris just tried to muffle the terribly familiar noise with her hands. While on spring break, she never wanted to hear the infernal calling of a phone alarm. Kilgrave, finally getting rid of most of his sleepiness, reached over and silenced it before checking the notifications. He was surprised to see some woman had texted Jessica.

Hogarth:   _Stop what you're doing. I need dirt on Wendy. Now._

Either from suddenly-awake confusion or just general confusion, he quickly responded back.

Jessica:   _????_

And an immediate response was returned.

Hogarth:    _Cut the shit. Find some leverage on my ex before she ruins everything. Nothing else matters._

"Kevin, who's that?" Iris mumbled sleepily, and her forearm was resting across her eyes. He glanced away from the phone screen to answer.

"One of Jessica's clients, I suppose."

"You have her phone?"

"... Yeah," he admitted and finished the text conversation.

Jessica:   _I'm on it._

"Won't she need it?" Kilgrave let out a deep sigh and put the phone back on the table.

"She was recording me. I presume you can guess why I hate being recorded?" Iris recalled the video he had shown her and Jessica on her laptop.

"Yes, I know." She tried to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off and made his way off the couch in a panic, looking around the house. "Kevin?-"

"-Where is she?!" he asked anyone and everyone, frantically running his hands through his hair. "She should be here!" Iris had followed him into the dining room.

"Kevin-"

"-She's been gone for hours! Look!" He roughly parted the curtains to show the darkened street and yard. "Flower, you told me she'd come back!" he said like a madman, and his behavior frightened her. She carefully placed a calming hand on his shoulder and slowly began walking them both back to the sitting room.

"She said she would, Kevin. Remember?" He nodded, and they sat down on the sofa, his leg anxiously bouncing up and down. "It's just like, what, seven-thirty?" she asked, glancing at a nearby clock to confirm. "Maybe she's just taking her time. She's been here for a while. Doesn't she have family or friends to see?"

"Yeah," he said, calming down. His leg's bouncing grew to a stop. "There's still time. She can still come back," he murmured to himself.

"How about we watch some TV?" Iris distracted. "The good shows are always on around this time." She picked up the remote and waited for his answer.

"Alright."

 

* * *

 

Reruns of  _Lucifer_  were being televised, so Iris and Kilgrave were both watching the misunderstood Devil play cop with criminals.

"I don't see why he doesn't just force her to be with him. He obviously loves her," Kilgrave complained, and Iris tried to keep back the frown her face wanted to have. She turned towards him.

"Kevin..." she started softly, and he turned to look at her as well. "You do realize that you can't force Jessica to stay here if she doesn't want to." As soon as the words fell out of her mouth, she regretted them.

"Why not?" he asked lightly, thinking that his flower wasn't being really serious. "She'll eventually see how perfect we are for each other, how  _I'm_  the only person who can match her, and return my feelings." He noticed the conflicted look on Iris's face. "Oh, don't tell me you've forgotten my goal here," he mocked with a nastily curled lip.

"You can't make someone love you," she reasoned.

"Give her enough time, and she will."

"That's not how love works." Anger started to seep onto his face and into his words.

"What do  _you_  know about love?" he ridiculed. "Hmm? Last I checked, you stopped fancying that girl. You don't know what you're talking about." He was about to let the subject go, but Iris was frustrated at his condescending tone.

"I  _do_  know what I'm talking about!" she defended. "I'm living it right now!" Her slip-up got his attention.

"What?" he asked in a breath of shock, and she rubbed her forehead.

"Just- Nevermind," she waved it off.

"No," he said sternly. "Tell me, Flower." Instead of confessing, she diverted the focus back on the earlier subject.

"Jessica doesn't love you! And she never will! Can't you see that?!" The more she talked, the more she infuriated him, and he was growing red in the face. "You're only going to get hurt-"

"-How dare you!?" he snarled, standing up, and she stood up as well, facing him like she should have done ages ago. She wouldn't back down this time as he hurled his fury at her. "After everything we've-" he cut himself off and got unsettlingly quieter. "You made me trust you, care about you. And you throw it all back in my face," he growled and placed his hands on his hips. "You don't want me to be happy, is that it?" he asked with a tilted head, staring her down.

"Kevin-"

"- _Don't_." She sighed, trying to keep her hurt inside and not outside in the form of tears.

"You know me better than that," she told him and looked into his hateful gaze, hoping that he had enough sense to feel the truth in her words. "All I want is for you to be happy," she said genuinely. "But if you keep going like this, you're gonna wind up hurt or killed, and I can't-" Her voice broke. "-I can't bear the thought of something happening to you." She watched as he bit his lip and thought that he finally understood what she really meant. To her horror, he gave a sardonic smile.

"I get it now. You're jealous."

"What? No-"

"-You don't want Jessica to have me because you want me all to yourself, you selfish-" Even though he was rabid with rage, he still couldn't curse a name at her. The accusing finger had not been put down, however. "I offered us all to be together, but you're just too selfish." His tone turned into betrayal. "I should've known, really. You were always too good to be true."

"That's not-"

"-Oh, just admit it," he said frustratedly. "I hate liars."

"That's not true, Kev-"

"-So you're sticking with that, huh?" He saw Iris's upset but unmoving look. "In that case, stay in your room until you tell me what you're hiding — because I  _know_  you're keeping something from me." His master-of-all demeanor and command made her snap.

"No," she said shortly.

"No?"

"No," she repeated and brushed past him to head towards the stairs. "How about," she continued as he followed her path, a worried look growing on his face, "I leave and never see you again." On the top step, she turned around. "Be with Jessica! I don't care!" She threw up an I-could-care-less gesture with a scornful hand and went to her room, beginning to shove her things into her book bag. Once Kilgrave arrived at her doorway, his worry turned into fear. Without looking at him, she kept going. "But don't expect me to let you back into my heart and save you from the shit you're piling over your head because it's gonna come crashing down."

"Flower?" he called anxiously to no effect. "Flower, you don't mean that," he denied.

"You see me packing," she said coldly.

"You can't," he told her almost brokenly.

"Watch me, Kilgrave." At her unforgiving tone, he knew how serious the situation was.

"No." She shoved past him again after gathering her things. "No, I won't let you," he said with a sliver of desperation. While going back down the steps, he was trying to grab her arm to keep her from leaving. Right when he was close enough, Hank stepped into view at the bottom of the stairs.

"She's here, boss," Hank said. He had no clue that he had just ruined his boss's chances at ever getting his flower to stay.

"Oh, perfect!" Iris said in false cheer and began unlocking the front door. While working on the second, Kilgrave had caught up with her. Every time he tried to place a hand on her or grab her in a physical attempt to keep her with him, she successfully shrugged him off or roughly pushed his hands away.

She finally made it outside and nearly ran into Jessica, who watched the scene unfold in shock after stepping aside.

"Wait!" Kilgrave pleaded as he followed Iris out, ignoring the person he had been crazily waiting for. To Jessica's surprise, Iris didn't stop, and Kilgrave kept chasing her heels. "Iris, love, don't leave me!" he begged, but her steps only faltered a little, not enough to signal that she could be persuaded. He stopped at the edge of Jessica's house's premises, remembering that she wasn't his prisoner and therefore couldn't be kept against her will, as much as he wanted to force her to stay. "Where are you going!?" he asked her shrinking figure as she walked down the dim street.

"Home!" she yelled back without turning her head.

"You can't walk there!" He moved forward a few steps. "It's nighttime! You'll be hurt! Just come back, Flower, please! I'll take you there tomorrow!" But knowing her heart, Iris knew that he would be forgiven by then, and she would stay, allowing him to crush her over and over again because she let him think he could — that his hurtful actions were acceptable.

"No!"

"Iris-"

"-Shut up!" a neighbor shouted from his window, and Kilgrave looked around for that window, spotting an overweight, shirtless man hanging halfway out of the window with an angered look.

"You shut the bloody hell up!" And the man closed his mouth with wide eyes. "Close that window, and sleep!" Kilgrave ordered and watched the man leave his sight. When he turned back to where his flower was, she was nowhere to be seen. "Iris?!" he called desperately, and deep down, he knew she was already too far gone.

A sinking feeling tugged his heart down into his stomach, making him want to be sick. As much as he wanted to go after his flower, there was someone else waiting for him — the woman he  _truly_  loved- No, the only woman he's ever loved. That was what he meant.

He stepped back into the house, which Jessica had already entered, and gestured for Hank to come over.

"Boss?"

"Find my flower, and make sure she's not hurt," Kilgrave ordered. "Take her to wherever she tells you, and then come back. But most importantly, make sure she's not hurt," he repeated, rubbing his stubble worryingly. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go, now!" Hank rushed out to the car, and Kilgrave entered the dining room, where Jessica had already laid out her Chinese takeout meals on the table.

"What's going on?" he asked her.

"I could ask you the same thing," she responded.

"She left... Flower left me," he said morosely and sat down.

"I saw that part, but  _how_? Your powers didn't work on her."

"She's immune..." He saw the shock on Jessica's face. "Someone's a bit slow on the uptake," he muttered.

"So she stayed here. Willingly." Jessica shook her head at the thought.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," she hissed before calming down.

"Well, you came back," he countered. "Why?"

"You were right."

"About what?" She sat in the chair next to him and poked at her noodles with chopsticks.

"About you and me. Maybe we can balance the scales a bit."

"Flower's not here, but..." He forced a smile on his face. "We should certainly try."

"If this hero thing doesn't pan out, I am out of here," she said seriously. "I'm not Iris." She raised her voice and dropped the tense tone. "Laurent, Alva, dinner's up!" At her words, the chef and the cleaner walked in and sat down happily.

"Do they need to eat with us?" Kilgrave whispered to Jessica.

"First step in heroism: don't be a prick," she advised.

"I needed to ask Laurent something anyway," he mumbled. "Laurent," he spoke up, making the chef look at him questioningly. "What is  _that_ -" He nodded to the center of the table. "-doing here?" Laurent glanced at the cake in confusion.

"That is the cake you wanted earlier today," he answered.

"And it took you over eight hours to make it?"

"N-no. I was going to bring it to you, but you and Miss Iris were asleep on the couch." Kilgrave sighed, hating the pain he was getting just from looking at the orange-colored cake.

"I saw it sitting in the kitchen," Jessica added on, "and was told it had alcohol in it, so I obviously wanted a piece." She watched Kilgrave closely, especially when he rubbed his chest over his heart like it hurt.

"Alright," he muttered and faced the Chinese on his plate, opening and closing his chopsticks in a sad manner.

"Dig in," Jessica encouraged, but he slightly shook his head.

"I'm not that hungry," he excused.

"You know-" She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye while taking a bite. "-I don't think Iris would let you skip meals. She cares about you too much." He scowled at his plate.

"She's not here." His hateful look vanished, and he let out a deep, shaky breath. "I miss her," he admitted quietly.

"And you can see her later, yeah? You act like she's disappeared off the face of the earth. Jeez, it's like some stupid teenage love story I'm witnessing." He shot her a short glare and moved his noodles around before picking up a bundle and eating it.

As Jessica watched Alva and Laurent get loopy, she hid her smirk with the hand holding her chopsticks.


	19. Chapter Nine - Part Two: AKA Aches and Pains

Large tears freely fell down Iris's face, blurring her view, as she walked down the lonely street. Her tough front had vanished the moment she turned the corner out of Kilgrave's sight, and she was back to being the pushed-around teenager. Multiple times, she had thought about turning around and asking him for forgiveness but didn't want to give in to what she knew deep down wasn't her fault.

Since the area she was in was the suburbs, she didn't have as much fear walking down the seemingly empty street as she would have had in New York. However, the darkness lingering in clumps at the fencing of each house and beyond the lamp light's ability still casted a paranoid and dreadful feeling. Most of the neighbors owned their own car, so Iris didn't expect a taxi to come by anytime soon, especially this late. She didn't have enough pocket money anyway but was hoping one of them could take a check.

Her feet scuffled along the sidewalk, and she was annoyed with how loud her shoes scraped against the concrete. At least she had something else to focus on: what type of walking made the least noise. Her tears still left a path, darkening the dry sidewalk as she settled on just walking the normal way, and sullen thoughts returned to her numb self. She sniffled a few times and used the rough cuff of her shirt to rub her raw eyes.

_I'm so stupid — completely and utterly stupid for letting myself fa- letting myself get attached to this inhuman person who doesn't even care about anyone other than himself, who has committed so many horrible crimes just because he could. But he didn't know better- He should have. He should have seen a hint to the hurt he was causing — any hint at all. There is no excuse for that. He's smart enough to figure it out after a few times, and he's had years._

_And there's no excuse for me enabling him either — no matter what my heart wanted me to do. That night on the table was wrong. Maybe it **was** rape, and I let him get away with it. I should have left then. It sure as hell would have been easier. But no, I just had to forgive him and push it away like it never happened. It  **did** happen. And then he apologized, and I just felt like he didn't mean it — swooned like Faith whenever his words turned into honey. He  **spoon-fed** me and took me on a d- took me out to help with my writing and as another sign of being sorry._

_But afterwards, he gave me the cold shoulder, and everything turned into some stupid game with me getting **punished** just for hanging out with my crush. He thought he needed physical proof that he owns me, but he had owned me early on. Even I don't know when my heart started to rely on him and his opinions or the stupid kisses I spurred on. I wasted too much on him — time, energy, care, my first kiss, and my lo- my... my..._

Feeling like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her whole body, Iris stopped walking and stiffened, eyes wide in shock.

_There's no way... It's impossible. I've never loved anyone, and no one has ever loved me. My writing is the closest thing to ever having a love life. "Married to my work," I'd say whenever my friends tried to set me up. I have too many trust issues because of... And flings aren't my thing. I can't handle heartbreak. But..._

Iris clutched the aching part in her chest.

_Whatever this is **hurts**. And we've kissed and done other things. We must have stopped being friends somewhere, right? Then there was that stupid article... But he doesn't love me because he only loves Jessica. On the other hand, he did offer... He offered for us all to be together. Is that wrong?_

She rubbed her forehead in confusion.

_It definitely isn't right. Jessica doesn't even want to be near him — hates him, in fact — and he was making her stay despite that. She doesn't love him like I... like I do. It could've been just us, and I would try my best to keep him happy, like I had been. Did he even realize...? But what if he kept hurting people? Hurting me? No, I couldn't have stayed. This night was inevitable... But it still hurt._

From behind her, Iris heard a car pull up and carefully glanced over her shoulder. She couldn't see the driver because of the bright headlights, but she recognized the car. It slowed down to a stop, and a man in a suit stepped out, holding the backdoor open for her.

"Hank," Iris greeted softly and swallowed after hearing how sick she sounded. Before she stepped in, he stopped her.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" he asked, scanning her for any signs of being attacked. She still had her book bag, so she couldn't have been mugged.

"Physically, yes," she answered and shrugged her book bag off to toss in the backseat. Hank watched her settle in next to her bag and closed the door. When he got into the driver's seat, he waited for her to put her belt on before pulling the car off the side of the road.

"Where do you want to go?"

_To him._

"My apartment."

 

* * *

 

The car ride had been silent. Hank never was much of a talker, and Iris didn't think she could handle talking for a while. Instead, she distracted herself with counting the houses they passed or the seconds it took to get from one block to another.

Upon entering her apartment, she flicked the lights on and frowned. It was like coming out of a terrible fairy tale or finishing up a novel and she had to face reality again.

"Is there anything else you need, ma'am?" Hank spoke up from behind her. He had followed to make sure she would be fine — for now at least.

"No." She let out a deep, shaky sigh. "I'll probably just... stay up and do homework." After setting her bag on the cheap-looking table, she unzipped it and began taking out a few of her assignments. Her heart dropped when she realized she had forgotten something — something so important to her she briefly wondered how she had even forgotten it: her laptop. She frantically searched every inch of her bag to no success, and her body sagged noticeably.

"Something wrong?"

"My laptop," she said quietly, not wanting to head back but needing the device. It was her lifeline. "I left it there."

"I can fetch it for you, ma'am." She shook her head, just wanting to forget about everything for a moment.

"It's a bit late. I won't have you driving back and forth just for something small like that." Even Hank could tell how "small" it really wasn't. "He'll probably come by tomorrow anyway. Can you bring it then? Or have him bring it?"

"Of course, ma'am. You have our numbers if you change your mind," he said before leaving her tiny apartment.

Tiny and lonely.


	20. Chapter Ten: AKA Damsel in Distress

Eyes dazedly opened, and Kilgrave briefly wondered where he even was.

"Jessica..." he mumbled, beginning to recall the night's events, and sat up on a metal bench. "Jessica." His feet dropped into a shallow pool of water as he looked around the room. "Jessica!" he shouted angrily. His nightmarish childhood video was suddenly projected above his head.

"Smile, Kevin." He stood up and faced the projection for a moment before turning around and spotting Jessica seated at a desk.

"You lied to me!" he said in betrayal and put his arms on the beams holding the glass of the encasement together, but Jessica couldn't hear his rant. She clicked a button to turn the microphone on, catching his words a few sentences later. "... built up my trust, pretended we were a team? You even made me a hero. All this while you were planning this? Why?!"

"Because you're not a hero. You're a murderer,  _Kevin_ ," she told him.

"Shut up," he spat. Only one person could call him that.

"Go ahead, command me again," she baited. "That's a hermetically-sealed room,  _Kevin_ ," she mocked again.

"Kevin died in that lab."

"Granted it is a mundane name, but 'Kilgrave'? Talk about obvious. Was 'Murdercorpse' already taken?" He backed away from the glass.

"Why am I here? If you truly hated me, I'd be dead."

"There are worse things than death."

"Don't be melodramatic."

"Like being a slave to a sociopathic killer."

"I've never killed anyone." He tilted his head. "Can you say the same?" Jessica nearly pressed another button but held herself back, clenching her hand into a fist and sighing.

"If you wanna build trust, start by admitting what you did." Kilgrave just swished the water with his feet. "To me, to Hope, to Ruben. And Iris. You did something to her to make her leave. What, couldn't keep it in your pants? Or was she disappointed?" He ignored her goading.

"I thought P.I.s were supposed to be clever."

"Start at the beginning, Kevin."

"Um..." He leaned against the wall. "It was a cold, clear night, when I came across a woman being savagely attacked down a dark alley."

"Don't make me hurt you."

"Alright." He cleared his throat and looked up at her. "It was a regular late evening in a coffee sho _p_ ," he started again, popping the "p". Jessica furrowed her brows in confusion as he continued. "And I heard someone typing up a storm on their little laptop. The same laptop you have on your desk right now." She glanced down at the well-worn keyboard and figured out who he was talking about. "Anyway, we had a nice chat, and I told her I'd see her again. Well," he chuckled huskily, "I did." His implication made her finally press the red button, shocking him and making him fall down into the water, and he yelled out in pain.

"Forgot to mention: the water in your room is a conductor to open wire," she explained, and he slowly stood up, breathing heavily. "It was jerry-rigged by a former Spec Ops interrogator. Clearly he knows his shit."

"I'm impressed," he said between breaths. "I never realized you were such a bitch."

"Yeah, well, this bitch is in control of you now, asshole."

 

* * *

 

Glancing at the clock, Iris rubbed her eyes to keep herself awake. She knew without a doubt that she would have nightmares and didn't feel like facing them alone. During her stay with Kilgrave, her nightmares weren't as bad, and they even began to stop. 

Now suddenly alone in her dark apartment, she preoccupied herself with reading. Then she wouldn't be the brokenhearted woman desperate to find some way to ease her pain; she could be a traveler with her own agenda instead of being stuck trying to survive paycheck-to-paycheck, ignoring the stirrings of her heart, and focusing on school with barely any time to herself. Spring break proved to her that her misgivings of people were true: they couldn't be trusted.

Even though the pot of dark coffee near her was almost empty, she didn't feel any of the caffeine's supposed effects, and her eyes drooped to a close, head sliding onto her creaky work desk.

 

* * *

 

A short-haired woman had come in while Jessica left. She was talking on the phone until the other party hung up. Kilgrave knocked on the glass, making the woman, Hogarth, turn around. He pointed at the desk, and she turned on the microphone.

"Do you need something?" she asked.

"A good lawyer. Do you know one?"

"I'll get you a referral."

"... Having trouble with your ex? Wendy, is it? Sorry, I was reading your lips. Could be Randy, but I think not. Threatening to expose you? Sounds hideous."

"Jessica tell you that?" Her arms were crossed at the intrusive man.

"Hardly. Jessica doesn't let anyone in. Likes to leave out details, too. I bet she hasn't told you that she moved in with me three days ago. Hmm? Cohabitation. Under her own free will. Has she mentioned about the other person living with me?"

"There's someone else?" Jessica  _had_  left that part out. Kilgrave leaned against the glass with his hands and stared at Hogarth intently, creating an unsettling atmosphere as she shifted under his gaze.

"Iris. I need her."

 

* * *

 

"Oof!" Iris huffed as she fell out of her chair onto the dusty carpet, jolting her awake. She groaned and slowly stood up on shaky legs, using the desk to help her up as she straightened her back. A few pops and cracks sounded as her bones got out of the position that they were in for a few hours. She hadn't been asleep for long, but a power nap was all she needed to re-energize.

The first thing on her mind was her laptop. She thought she could last a while without it, but her lack of the device kept niggling at the back of her mind. Checking her phone, she noticed she hadn't received any texts, making her heart sink. She pushed the feeling away to focus on texting Hank.

Iris:   _Can you bring my laptop, please?_

Immediately, she received a worry-inducing text.

Hank:   _Boss is gone. Taken last night. Looking for him._

Her chest constricted as panic began to set in.

Iris:   _Pick me up._

Hank:   _Know where he is?_

Iris:    _Might._

Hank:    _Be there in twenty._

She took a quick shower to wake herself up completely, knowing that she had to be alert and on her toes to find the man she loved — despite everything.

 

* * *

 

Kilgrave copied Hogarth's pacing until a door was heard opening at the back of the room. Jessica walked in, much to Hogarth's relief.

"Finally," the lawyer muttered, raising alarms in Jessica's head.

"What's wrong? Did he do something? Say something?" Jessica questioned. Hogarth leaned in.

"He said something about an Iris. Who is she?" she whispered.

"No one we need to be worried about. She bailed on him," Jessica responded, and Hogarth sighed and leaned away.

"Visiting hours at the prison are over. I needed to talk to Hope."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not. Where's your cop?"

"He needs evidence of Kilgrave's power. I'd appreciate you manning the shock switch."

"What, you're going in there?" Jessica took off her jacket and picked up a bag.

"Yeah, I know how to piss him off. When he takes control, the electricity will stop me as quickly as Kilgrave. But only hit the switch if he makes me hurt myself," she told Hogarth as she prepared to enter the sealed room.

"What if he kills you?"

"Well, then we'll have proof, won't we?" Jessica said, nonchalant but irritated.

"Wait, for the record..." Hogarth swiveled the camera to record Jessica. "You are?"

"I, Jessica Jones, of sound mind and body, submit the following footage into evidence." The camera turned back to face the flooded room.

Jessica opened the first door and rotated the circular handle back to a locked position. Before she opened the next, she took a deep breath, then entered into the room. Kilgrave stood there waiting.

"My feet are pruning." He noticed the white bag in her hand. "What's that?" Jessica tossed it over to the metal bed.

"Food."

"Smells fast," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"You're welcome." Jessica walked closer to him.

"Are you not afraid that I'll touch you?"

"No. Afraid I'll touch you?" She trailed a finger on his chest, and he took a small step back.

"I think I'll let only one person touch me like that." She scanned his face before slapping it, and he shouted at the pain. "You will  _not!_..." he cut himself short.

"Stop me, then." She pushed him hard into the metal wall behind him. "I remember how Iris turned you into mush." Hearing her name triggered something in his mind.

"I need her," he muttered, overcoming the pain in his back.

"A kid?" she mocked. "You're pathetic. You disgust me. All that power, and you're too afraid to use it, too. Scared like a little momma's boy. Is that what Iris is? Some surrogate mother because yours ditched?" She scrunched up her face at the thought. "That's one fucked up Oedipus Complex." His upper lip started curling in anger. "Come on, Kevin. Be a big boy for mummy."

"She's not a part of this," he said with gritted teeth.

"She had you purring in her lap the other day, puss."

"Because she cares-"

"-Is that what you really think?" Jessica asked sarcastically. "She saw a scared little boy, and her instincts kicked in." He shook his head as he tried to catch his breath and swallowed.

"I wish she was the one in that alley," he confessed — to himself and to her. "The one with powers. Speaking of-" He glanced at Hogarth. "-I don't know what you meant, you have all the power here." Jessica roughly tossed him on the bench and stood in front of him.

"Make me stop."

"I won't hit a woman."

"No, but you'd rape her. Destroy her mind. Make her a murderer. Say the words!" Jessica didn't hear Hogarth telling her something.

"I loved you. I gave you whatever you wanted," Kilgrave said, looking up at her.

"All you ever gave me was shame," she said brokenly and hit him across the face, making him lean over the railing. She lifted him back into place. "And remorse." She hit him again. "And pain." And again. "Come on, you cowardly piece of shit! You don't have the balls to fight me!?" Kilgrave stood up and managed a smirk.

"I know now. That I made a mistake." Jessica narrowed her eyes at the rare statement. "It should've been  _her_. I would have had her every single night-" She cut him off by throwing him high into a corner, and he dropped onto the floor, blood dripping out of his mouth. "What's the matter with you people?!" he yelled. "You're just gonna let this happen?!" The two women outside of the sealed room did nothing, except one walked away. "Please! Somebody help me!" Jessica kicked him over to the other end of the room and lifted him against the wall by his shirt. "Feels good, doesn't it? Being in control," he told her darkly before getting punched, blood from his mouth spraying against the glass to his right. He sunk down to the floor, and before she could get a final hit in, she was electrocuted.

Both were lying in the water, unconscious.

 

* * *

 

"Hank, what happened?" Iris asked quickly as she got into his car. He sped off to return to his boss's house, hoping a clue was left there.

"Jones took him. I arrived just as she was leaving." Hank weaved through traffic, keeping an eye out for any signs of a kidnapping. "Glad I did, too. Boss had a safeguard for the cop."

"A safeguard?"

"There was a bomb in the basement, and he asked me to rewire it. Someone would set it off should anything go wrong."

"Was anyone hurt?" Of course someone was, but she had to know for sure.

"The cop's buddies were... killed." Hank glanced at the woman who looked like she was going to be sick. "A neighbor, too."

"She was right..." Iris muttered. But maybe there was hope for him. Maybe he could change, and she would help him.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing. How long till we get there?"

"Fifteen minutes. Where do you think he is?"

"I don't know," she said, trying to keep her racing heart down. "But my laptop... If it's not at his house, then there's a chance I can find him."

"I didn't see it when I looked around."

"So it's gone? You sure?" She pulled out her phone and began searching through her apps.

"Pretty sure. Why?" He heard her gasp and glanced at her. "Alright there?"

"Apparently, my laptop's in a building a few blocks away. Here-" She hastily passed him her phone. "Drive there," she told him, pointing at a small, green, blinking dot on the screen.

"Hold on." Hank swerved while taking the next right, and Iris gripped her door's armrest. "Tracker?" he asked, amused, and she crossed her arms.

"I can't help that I lose things all the time. Look how handy it is now."

After another turn, he pulled into a large space between two buildings, and more cars were parked around an opening.

"Care to take a guess as to which door?" Hank joked, making Iris roll her eyes, and quickly parked the car. He was about to get out when she stopped him.

"You have to stay here."

"Why? If he's there-"

"-Then he's with Jones and whoever-" She waved a hand at the empty cars. "-these other people are. You come in with your gun, and all hell breaks loose."

"How do you plan on getting him out, then?" She gave him a small smile and opened her door.

"I don't plan. I improvise."

"I'll stay here with the car — maybe park it in a less noticeable place in case anyone comes out."

"Thanks, Hank," she said sincerely and stepped out, closing the door afterwards. He watched her lean on the open window. "If anything goes wrong, you know you can just leave right?"

"With you there, I don't think much  _can_ go wrong." She reached in and patted his arm gratefully.

"Stay safe, Hank," she said before leaning away and heading towards the door.

"Luck be on your side, Iris!" Hank yelled before she disappeared. He shook his head. "You're gonna need it..."

 

* * *

 

Kilgrave curled up on the uncomfortable bench and covered his ears to muffle the sounds of his younger self's screams. He wished  _she_  was there, running her fingers through his hair, comforting him. That was all he had ever wanted: care, comfort... love. But he had pushed her away, and he only had himself to blame. She was right; everything came crashing down.

He didn't listen, and now she was gone.

 

* * *

 

Iris's tracker app didn't tell her to go upstairs or downstairs, and she had mistakenly went down a whole flight first. The disturbing quietness told her no one was on those levels, so she headed back up. The hallways were long and nondifferentiable from each other, making her search harder. Her panicked mind kept telling her that he wouldn't be there — that he was already gone.

Then she heard a barely audible sound, echoing off the wall.


	21. Chapter Eleven: AKA What's in a Name?

Jessica accidentally stepped on one of the printed pictures of Louise Thompson and lifted it up, eyeing the mark her shoe had left on the face.

"What?" Trish had noticed. "Jess?"

"I think I know where I can find them," Jessica said and began to walk out. "Stay here, Trish."

"Jess, be careful," Trish said, worrying about her adopted sister.

"You too- Woah!"

Jessica nearly ran into someone else when she turned the corner.

"Iris?" she asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" Iris shot a glance to the room Jessica had just come from.

"I'm looking for my laptop," she partially lied. "It's the only one I have."

"How did you know it was here?"

"Tracker. I lose things easily. So, can I...?" Iris began stepping into the room, and Jessica watched her nervously.

"Best if I... explain a few things first."

They entered the room, and Iris had to stop the emotions from showing blatantly on her face. Jessica could only see a blank mask as Iris observed HELP ME written on the glass wall holding Kilgrave inside and the trapped-animal look on his face, ready to pounce on any chance to leave.

Iris looked away and gestured to the desk setup and sealed room.

"So- um." She cleared her throat. "Explain?" Jessica took the short route.

"There's a girl in jail that shouldn't be in jail because  _someone_ forced her to kill her parents." She shot a pointed glare at Kilgrave. "If there's evidence to shorten her sentence or free her, it's through him. Otherwise, she'll be in a cell for the rest of her life. I have less than forty-eight hours to prove her innocence because I told her not to take the plea deal." Jessica let out a heavy breath.

"I see... Maybe I can help you with that."

"What? How?"

"Poke him with a stick. His powers don't work on me, but I can agitate him enough to do something. Just tell me what to do." Jessica thought back to all the times he had brought Iris up. "I need her," he had said. She glanced at the strange look he was currently giving Iris. "So you hate him now?"

"I was nothing but kind to him, and he took advantage of that. See — I hold grudges even for the smallest of things because I don't let anyone in — usually. Guess who became number one on my hit list?" Jessica smirked as Trish came over.

"Who's this?" she asked.

"Iris," Jessica answered. "You know, the one who..." Trish's mouth made an "o" shape in realization and turned to Iris.

"Hey, I'm Trish." Iris shook her hand.

"I guess you already know who I am."

"Jess told me about..." Trish glanced at Kilgrave, whose eyes had never left Iris's figure. "That's not creepy," she commented.

"He's turned his eyes on you — not just literally," Jessica told Iris. "You're the second person who has ever walked away from him and the only one who's immune. He's a bit obsessed." Jessica looked at Kilgrave, who probably hadn't even blinked. "Maybe more than a bit."

"Well, who's the first who walked away?" Iris asked curiously, ignoring the holes his eyes were boring into her back.

"Me. Which reminds me: I need to get going, Trish. Let her in the room if she wants. He can't hurt her, and you have the shock button just in case," Jessica said, walking off again.

"Are you sure, Jess?" Trish called out, and Jessica did the okay symbol with her hand before turning it into a thumbs-up as she disappeared. Trish turned to Iris with a still-unsure look on her face. "You're fine with going in?"

"Yeah." Iris nodded. "The eye thing's just a bit off-putting." They went back deeper into the room, and they sat in the chairs behind the desk, trying to ignore the man's unwavering gaze. Iris spotted her laptop. "How did you hook up all this stuff to it? I didn't even know it had that many ports."

"Oh, this is yours? Jess told me she just picked it up on her way out of that house."

"Left it by accident. I came here to get it, actually, but..." Iris chanced a look at Kilgrave, feeling shivers up her spine when their eyes met, and she quickly looked away. "I like poking things with a stick, especially when I can dip out at anytime." Trish gave her a small smile, but Iris could tell something was wrong. "You alright?"

"There's just a lot of things going on. I have this... friend. He's hurt because Kilgrave had a bomb."

"Hospital?"

"Yeah. He told me he'd be fine, but..."

"You don't believe him?" Trish nodded.

"Right..." Iris placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I think we're the type that worries too much. Can't help it, though." She took her hand away and sighed. "I think it's a good thing. Shows people you care... But sometimes you need to put yourself first." Iris leaned over and smiled. "I'm still having problems with that," she whispered, making Trish chuckle, and she leaned back. "I think he'll be alright."

"Thanks."

The silence would have been comfortable if they couldn't tell someone was still staring.

"Do you wanna head in? It's just that-"

"-You want him to stop," Iris finished for her, and Trish nodded. "Alright."

The women moved over to the first door, and Iris took off her shoes, not wanting to get them wet.

"Give me a signal if you want to leave or if something's wrong," Trish told her as Iris went through the first hatch, shutting and locking it behind her.

"I will," Iris said loudly enough to hear through the circular glass window. Trish nodded and quickly headed back over to the table, hand on the desk, ready to hit the red button.

Iris let out a deep breath and opened the next door without glancing at Kilgrave beforehand. After closing the door behind her, she moved her eyes over to him and gasped internally at the intense gaze he was giving her. He made no move to change his standing position in the center of the room, and she slowly stepped closer to him, a mask still hiding her emotions away.

"I was wrong about you," Kilgrave spoke first. "I've had your name wrong this whole time... You're not my flower." His words hurt her until he finished his short soliloquy. "You're a goddess." He tilted his head as she stood about a foot away. "But are you here to save me or punish me?" His answer came when she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug, her mask slipping away when she saw the bruises covering his face. He wrapped his arms around her waist and laid the not hurt side of his face on the top of her head.

"Iris? What's going on?" Trish asked anxiously, and Iris felt guilty for tricking the two people who were trying to do the right thing. She tried to pull away, but Kilgrave wouldn't let her.

"I'm sorry, Trish," Iris said, and Trish finally understood. She sighed and put her face into a hand. Turning away, she decided to wait for Jessica to return to do anything.

"Iris," Kilgrave muttered, nuzzling his face into her neck. She ran her fingers through his hair, just like he had wanted.

"Hmm?"

"You left me."

"I did. Someone was being a pain in the ass. Wonder where that got him?" He chuckled, just happy that Iris was with him, that he could see her again.

"But you're here," he mused.

"Not exactly my best idea, but-"

He had cut her off with a kiss — a very passionate one.

Iris returned the kiss for a short moment before breaking it off, making him whine a protest.

"I'm still mad at you," she told him.

"I was wrong. I see that now. Just don't leave me again."

"What were you wrong about?" Iris asked sternly, managing a step back with crossed arms. "Hurting people? Forcing people to do things they don't-"

"-Who I love."

"What?" Kilgrave stepped forward and laced their fingers together. He used his free hand to caress her face, and Iris could see his emotions swirling in his eyes.

"Jessica. That wasn't love I had for her."

"Well, you've still got other things you need to sort out." She wouldn't let him off the hook that easily.

"Show me how to be good, then. I'll do anything for you." Iris took her hand away from his.

"What game are you playing?" He swallowed, not in nervousness but in preparation, and looked directly into her eyes.

"I love you." Iris went wide-eyed in shock before narrowing her eyes.

"You can't play me like-" He cut her off with another emotional kiss, and she pushed her hands against his chest, making him step back.

"I'm being honest, Iris. I have nothing to gain from loving you other than your love in return." Her mouth opened and closed, trying to find some way to refute his statement. "That's what I want. I want you to love me."

"You don't mean that," she denied.

"I do. How can I prove it? I'll do anything."

"But we're stuck here, Ke-Kilgrave. Now I'm in this mess, too." She ran anxious fingers through her hair. "Oh God, what if-"

"-Shh," he cooed, gathering her into a hug. "You've done nothing wrong, so don't worry."

"Then I'll just worry about you, and what's gonna happen, and-"

"-Whatever happens, happens. Here-" He moved them over to the metal bed, brushing the food to the side so that they could sit. "Calm down. We have each other, someone to care about us. That's new, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." She leaned her head onto his shoulder and held his hand between them tightly. "I was supposed to be here to help you, Ke-Kil-"

"-You can say my name. They already know." She sighed.

"I should be comforting you, Kevin, not the other way around."

"You  _are_ comforting me. More than you know, love." He caught the blush crawling up her cheeks and chuckled. "I didn't expect you to be here. Maybe Jessica gave me a concussion, and I'm just hallucinating." Iris winced and lifted her head to inspect him. Bruises littered his face, and she saw scratches and... blood.

"Kevin-"

"-I'm fine for the most part. If I do have have a concussion, then I'll gladly keep it to make you stay."

"But I'm not some hallucination. You need to get checked out by someone, anyone."

"I have a regenerative healing factor." She pursed her lips.

"... Ah. So you really will be fine, then."

"Yes, love. I've had worse." Iris placed her head back on his shoulder and closed her eyes, creating light ripples in the water with her feet.

"Just for the record... I-think-I-might-love-you-too," she mumbled quickly.

"What?" She straightened herself out and looked him in the eyes like he had done to her. Ignoring her growing flushness, she repeated herself.

"I think I might... love-you-too." He raised a skeptical brow.

"Think's not good enough," he muttered. "I'll have to fix that."

"Well, I don't know what love is like," she told him quietly.

"I thought I did, but then I didn't, and now I do know." She smiled, figuring that he was trying to lighten the mood with playfully confusing sentences.

"Maybe you don't love me, and you just think that you do." He sighed and bit his lip.

"Whatever I feel for you is better than love, then." He felt her head lift off his shoulder and turned his face to see what she was doing when he met a pair of lips on his own.

A hand caressed his thigh, and one went to caress hers, going underneath to pull her closer. He moaned at the pleasure that numbed his pain, and she returned his sound with a mewl. The hand on his thigh went to his chest, and she slipped one of his buttons loose to feel his bare skin. Even though he wanted to continue, he had to stop their actions, or he'd go all the way — even if the blonde sitting outside was watching.

Gingerly, he took her hand out of his shirt and let go of her thigh. She opened her eyes, feeling rejected.

"Later," he said huskily.

"What if there isn't a later?"

"I know you don't really want to do that right here, right now." She nodded and fixed his shirt.

"I'm just... scared," she admitted, pulling her feet out of the water to tuck them on the bench sideways. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

"We'll always be fine, no matter what. I told you that, remember?"

"I do. It was the night you... Did you really think that that was okay?"

"Then, yes. Now... maybe not." He sighed. "I'm sorry. For the times I... didn't have your wholehearted consent, I'm sorry." Iris was surprised at his sincerity.

"I'll forgive you  _if_ you let me make you a better man. No more hurting people and whatnot." He sighed again but thought about his reward for doing as she asked.

"As long as you'll love me."

"I'd say I always will, but I'm not sure if what I'm feeling is love or not. I'll always care about you, though. Of that, I'm certain." 

"You lied to me, you know," he said after a moment.

"When?"

"Once or twice. Once about the 'spiders' in your magazine." She looked away in embarrassment. "Then you went and told me you didn't fancy anyone anymore."

"I couldn't exactly tell you, could I? You were all about Jessica." He cringed in regret. "Sorry."

"No, it's my fault. I was being thick for so long."

"How do you know if you're not being stupid loving me?"

"I don't. What about you? Do you know if you're being an idiot for caring about me so much?"

"Yes." There was a moment of silence before they burst out laughing. Trish even turned around since the microphone went from barely hearable murmurs to loud chortling. When she saw them, she was surprised by the look on their faces. Kilgrave appeared the opposite of murderous, and Iris wasn't under any influence or scared to death by him. They almost seemed... normal.

Quickly, she took a flashless picture of them to show to Jessica and turned back around. Maybe the man could be changed, and Jessica wouldn't have to be the one to change him.

Iris's stomach rumbled, echoing through the sealed room and embarrassing her. She caught his glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Shut up," she said lightly. "I'm hungry. Didn't get another meal before chasing after you."

"Here-" He handed her some fries, knowing that she wouldn't take the greasy burger.

"Kevin, I can't. You've been here longer than me."

"And I haven't eaten it yet, so you know I won't ever eat it. It's fast food."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, love, I'm sure." She ate one but started giggling and tried to muffle the sound with the back of her hand. "You alright?" he asked, trying not to smile at her silliness. She swallowed and nodded.

"I just had a thought: you would call these chips and not fries."

"Is it really that funny?"

"No, it's just... weird — how the same things are called differently even if it's the same language. What are potato chips, then?"

"... Crisps." She went into another giggle fit, and he couldn't stop the smile growing on his face.

While she ate, she snuggled into his side and would sometimes try to force him to eat something, figuring that he must be hungry now.

"We can Lady-and-the-Tramp it, if that's an incentive," she told him.

"What?"

"Nevermind. Wish we had spaghetti, though," she mumbled before sighing. "Do you think... we'll make it out of this?"

"... Yes."

"Be honest, please." He shrugged.

"Just being optimistic."

"Isn't there something I can do to help?"

"Be here, love me. Oh, look, check, check." She smiled and laid down on her side, placing her head in his lap, and he automatically played with her hair.

"So you think I love you?"

"... I found an article... in your trash. Ten out of thirteen?" He clicked his tongue. "Pretty certain."

"Maybe I was thinking of someone else." His hand froze in her hair.

"Were you?"

"No, silly!" He relaxed and resumed petting her while she drew invisible words and shapes on his thigh. When he felt a heart being drawn, he knew that she was more than smitten with him.

Leaning in, they gave each other a final peck on the lips, and she positioned herself to huddle into his chest. His arms went around her, and his chin rested on her head. A blanket of pleasant silence drifted over them while they waited for their fate.


	22. Author's Note (Two)

Hello again, Lovelies!

These previous chapters (pretty much this half of the story) were ones I had finished during a break with school. It will be a while before I can continue this (probably summer), but please check for updates.

There is another story I've partially written, but I don't know if I should post it. I'll let you Lovelies decide. It's about another one of David Tennant's characters (sorry, I'm shamefully obsessed), and he's John Smith from  _Doctor Who_  — not really the Doctor, but just John Smith the schoolteacher.

The problem is (like everything else) the other character is based on me, and I'm pretty sure that's not likable.

If I do post it, I'll probably end up rewriting it (just like this one) one day, but the basic concept can be read if you want me to put it up.

Thanks again for even taking the time to read this. I really appreciate it!


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